Ron Weasley's Heart on His Sleeve
by JoJo4
Summary: This is Ron's version of Half Blood Prince. Chronicled here are the missing moments of the book pertaining to Ron Weasley's relationship with Hermione Granger. Major spoilers for HBP. COMPLETE
1. Summer at the Burrow

Ron Weasley's Heart on His Sleeve

By Jen Ann Bradley

Summer at the Burrow +

-----

Ronald Weasley was in love.

Either that or Ronald Weasley had fallen under the influence of a love spell, he wasn't sure. He was only sixteen and had never had any experience with such things other than when he stumbled across his mother's romance serials (which, by the way, he never read). Part of him (the sane part) said that he was far too young to be in love. Ron couldn't possibly understand the concept, and therefore it was ridiculous to pretend he did. And if he had learned anything about love at all from any story or book, Ron knew that love was supposed to be pleasant. But this wasn't pleasant at all. He felt hopeless, miserable, useless and unwanted, and he suspected that these feelings were generally associated with lovers as well.

Ron collapsed on his bed and yanked his sheets over his face while repressing a general cry of frustration. The air under the sheets quickly became stale and hot, but Ron didn't come up for air until the discomfort became unbearable. When at last he did emerge, he found little difference. The humid summer air made him feel like a Mandrake in a greenhouse. When he exhaled, his breath came out in a shuddering sigh. With his arms propped under his head, Ron stared up at the whitewashed ceiling, simply drowning in his sheets and his sorrow.

_I'm in love_, he thought, trying out the phrase for size. _I'm in love_, he repeated. Ron didn't say it a third time, for he wasn't quite comfortable with the sentiment. It sounded wrong when he thought about it. How could he really be sure?

As Ron searched for the cause of his melancholy, one particular memory leapt out from the others. The image of a very familiar girl with brown hair and dark, intelligent eyes, who was turning to smile at him, replayed in his mind over and over again until he was dizzy. A sort of paralysis took hold of him as he remembered the gentle touch of her hands over his. Every time he remembered, Ron felt the instant need to be alone.

It had been this morning when he'd experienced his revelation. He had been frying the sausage over the stove while Hermione fretted about Harry and her O.W.L.S. Mostly, he had been trying to drown her out because what was most interesting to him at the time was the mock argument Bill was having with Fleur in the next room. It had been over something trivial, like which song to play or whether one ought to be played at all, seeing as it was 8 o'clock in the morning, but Ron liked to watch the French girl. He liked to watch his brother with her, thinking he might be able to pick up tips on how to talk to girls.

But just because he wasn't listening to Hermione didn't mean he found her annoying. On the contrary, he found her presence comforting. He was glad she hadn't gone to Bulgaria or France or wherever else it was she usually spent the summer holiday.

"Ron?" He heard her call him, while still peering into the next room. "Ron, you're burning the sausages."

She had his attention immediately, and Ron was now aware of the faint smell of burning meat. In a desperate attempt to save his breakfast, he grabbed the fork lying on the counter. Unfortunately, he dropped it in his haste and was left without a utensil to turn the sausages. So he used his fingers.

"Ow! Hot!" he exclaimed. The oil crackled in the pan and leapt up to burn his hand. Ron dropped the pan onto the burner with a curse. He expected Hermione to chastise him or tell him what he ought to have done, but to his surprise she came to his rescue.

Swiftly, she turned off the heat and relocated the pan to another burner. Then she opened the tableware drawer and pulled out a fork. Ron watched her deft culinary performance with fascination as she tested the sausages one-by-one.

"They're done," she pronounced. Then she turned to him, brushing her long hair out of her face with a wide smile that was so radiant Ron felt he was staring into the sun. Gorgeous. Oh my God, he thought without knowing why he thought it.

"I don't think they're burnt too badly," she said.

It was the innocence of her statement that drove Ron's realization home. Hermione hadn't noticed how quickly and unexpectedly she had become the center of his universe, and she didn't know that right at that moment, Ronald Weasley would have done anything she asked. He would have jumped off a cliff. He would have worn pink bunny slippers on his ears in front of the whole Slytherin House. But she didn't know. Ron loved it that she didn't know, but was still smiling at him, happy simply to be in his company. She would never ask him to do anything so dreadful. And she was absolutely beautiful.

"Your hand," Hermione said, gesturing to the way he was still clutching it close to his chest. At her direction, Ron had offered up his hands for her inspection, admiring the way Hermione always knew what to do. As her hands moved over his, Ron's heart leaped. Practically numb, he glanced at Hermione biting her lip in concentration, wishing that his hand was covered in paper cuts, if only so she would keep her hands on his. He liked the careful, reverent way she touched him and struggled to recall the last time she had done it. Had she ever?

Ron thought of the quick kiss she had given him before the Quidditch match last year and blushed as he recognized the stirrings of something he would rather Hermione didn't witness. He couldn't meet her eye when she declared him to be perfectly fine.

He had been quiet for the remainder of the day, sneaking long looks at Hermione so he could admire her when he knew it was safe. Then, at last, the game he was playing grew tiresome and Ron couldn't bear it anymore. He had come up to his room and flopped on his bed, and now was staring up at his ceiling feeling desperate.

What was he supposed to do with feelings like this? Hermione was his best friend. He couldn't continue in this line of thinking. Matches like this were simply not made. Hermione was smart, beautiful, caring… and he wasn't.

Besides, they were like brother and sister. It was wrong! It would change everything, and poor Harry might feel like a third wheel or a fifth wheel or something like that. And anyway, Ron didn't know what to do about it, so what did it matter?

_But…I'm in love_.

"No, I'm not," he said out loud, as if the sound of the words would convince him. He almost believed them, because it was too much to believe that Ronald Weasley could be feeling like he was because of a girl he'd known for five years and had never once looked on as anything more than a sister. Except for once at the Yule Ball… And that other time when she'd raised her hand in Umbridge's class… And that other time…

_No, no, stop it!_ Ron thought. _Soon you'll be convincing yourself that you've been in love with Hermione since First Year, and that's nonsense. That's even less believable than falling in love over sausages._

He suddenly wished Harry were here. Harry's presence would fix everything, and he wouldn't have to worry about what to do about Hermione. He was so sure of Harry's power to make it all right, that Ron actually rolled over onto his stomach and closed his eyes in an attempt to fall asleep. Soon enough, Harry would come. Dumbledore had sent an owl with a message that Harry would be coming for the remainder of the summer.

Yet even with that comforting notion, sleep didn't find Ron until well past midnight. By that time, he was a miserable, frustrated mess who was practically beating his pillow in an effort to stop thinking about Hermione.

When he finally managed something like sleep, she invaded his dreams. It was only in the morning after waking that he truly found respite when his mother barged into the room to announce that Harry had arrived during the night.

-----

To Ron's chagrin, Harry's arrival fixed nothing. If anything, it only made his heart ache more acutely, for when Hermione lavished attention on Harry, Ron began to feel alarmed by his friend's presence rather than pleased by it.

This alone made Ron feel guilty, but what else could he think while watching Harry and Hermione's easy camaraderie? His conversations with Hermione were never as easy. He couldn't tell what she was thinking simply by looking at her, and she never asked him what was wrong when he was down.

It was only Harry whom Hermione studied for signs of depression. It was only Harry with whom she exchanged sidelong glances, the meaning of which Ron could not interpret. And she kept saying things like, "Harry, I like your shirt," or something of that nature. She never said things like that to him. Even when she was alone with Ron, all she talked about was Harry.

"Do you think he's really all right?" Hermione had asked one day when Harry was off helping Ginny adjust some new modifications she had made to her broom. "I do wish he'd mention Sirius. I can't tell, can you?"

"No," said Ron, somewhat gloomily. "I don't think we should mention Sirius. Sometimes a bloke does better when he doesn't have to talk about something he doesn't want to talk about."

Hermione was pouting, but Ron couldn't understand why. He found her quite attractive when her lower lip jutted out just that little bit and when the light was touching her hair like so. But now was not the time to stare at Hermione. She might catch him in the act.

"Sometimes it might be nicer if a man told his friends what he was thinking," she replied, looking at him strangely.

"But I'm saying it might be nicer for the man if he didn't," said Ron, idly pulling up a blade of grass after managing to remove his gaze from her lovely face and other attractive features that were located a bit south of Respectable. When he tossed the blade away, he found Hermione staring at him with a strange mixture of exasperation and something else.

Ron felt uncomfortable under her scrutiny and looked away. "If Harry wants to tell us something, he'll tell us," he said impatiently. He desperately wanted to get away from the topic of Harry. "He told us about the prophecy, didn't he?"

"Yes," she said, thoughtfully, before pushing right on again. "But maybe sometimes if a person is uncomfortable talking about something, he still ought to talk about it. Maybe the other person would really like to hear what he has to say. Maybe the other person would like to talk to him and then he'd be really happy to hear what the other person says."

Ron had the distinct impression that she was talking about something other than Harry, but he didn't understand her meaning. What was she going on about? Why couldn't Hermione just drop it? He'd already told her that Harry probably felt better not talking about Sirius.

"Drop it, Hermione," he said with a great sigh. Then he wished he hadn't said anything at all because Hermione instantly shut up and didn't talk again to him, refusing to meet his eye. Ron was afraid they were about to have another fight, but she didn't stalk away like she usually did when they'd had a row. And when Harry and Ginny rejoined them, she was so cheerful that Ron decided she hadn't been angry at all.

But when Hermione complimented Harry on his mechanical skill in fixing Ginny's broom, Ron felt his face go hot.

"All he did was tighten some screws," he said, trying to keep his tone light. "I could have done it."

"That's right," said Harry, shaming Ron for his jealousy. Then, shaming him further, Harry handed him the broom with complete trust and respect. "Why don't you have a look at it, Ron?" he asked, all modesty. "You're even better at mechanical stuff than I am."

Grinning from ear to ear, Ron accepted the offer and spent the next ten minutes examining his sister's broom. He even tried it out, to find that it was indeed faster and steadier in the air. But when he returned to the others, he discovered they had lost interest in the broom and were making fun of Fleur again. Hermione didn't even pay attention to him when he handed the broom back to Ginny and pronounced the work a success. She was too busy laughing at Harry's impression of Fleur's accent.

"She's just French. That's how they talk," Ron said, only to find Hermione glaring at him.

Ron found his eyes narrowing. What had he done this time? He thought girls appreciated it when men were kind, but defending Fleur just made Hermione angrier.

Ginny spoke first. "Oh, come off it, Ron. You've got to admit she's irritating."

"Bill fancies her," he said, defending his soon to be sister-in-law. He looked to Harry, seeking his intervention, but found Harry looking sheepish and unwilling to come between two siblings.

"Do you fancy her too?" said Hermione, casually. Ron just stared at her, unable to discern whether that had been an accusation or a legitimate question.

"No!" he sputtered. "I don't fancy anybody."

For one moment the look on Hermione's face seemed to indicate that she had been slapped. In the end, however, she just laughed and whispered something in Harry's ear that caused Harry to chuckle. It was more than Ron could take, and he returned to the house after muttering some lame excuse under his breath. He went up immediately to his room, took off his shoes and chucked them into his closet like trash. Then he picked up one of his old textbooks lying on the floor. He didn't know why he picked it up; he only knew that he badly wanted a distraction.

It turned out to be his History of Magic book, and every margin was desecrated with notes and little pictures that he had drawn in class when he ought to have been paying attention. Hermione had always been disgusted to see the way he defaced his books, and he'd always been sorry about it…but History of Magic was so boring. How could anybody pay attention in that class?

But maybe Hermione was right, and it wouldn't be so dull if he read the book and knew what was going on in class. He might as well try, because it would be a sight more entertaining than lying in his bed trying not to think of Hermione.

Thus, Ron didn't come down again until Harry fetched him for dinner. He had intended not to speak to Harry, but his friend's earnest request that he come save him from his mother's finicking caused Ron's anger to evaporate. After all, it wasn't Harry he was mad at, but Hermione.

Harry hadn't done anything.

So he set down the book and came to the table, where he plopped down right across from Hermione, who still wasn't looking at him. Ron felt dismayed by her behavior. He had hoped that she would repent of her snotty attitude after it had caused him to sulk all afternoon. But it seemed she hadn't. So when she passed him the salt at his request, he took it, saying, "Salt was what Hiram Veiselburg used to season his famous plague-ridding potion in the 1400s."

Hermione blinked at him.

"Did you know that?" he asked.

"Of course, we learned that in History of Magic last term," she huffed. Ron was secretly pleased that he'd gotten her to talk to him, even if she still seemed angry with him.

"I'm sorry," he cut her off. "I was directing that question to Harry."

"Harry, did you know that salt was what Hiram Veiselburg used to season his famous plague-ridding potion in the 1400's?"

"Er…" Harry stammered. "No, I didn't do that well in History of Magic."

"Oh, well, as Hermione pointed out, we learned that in class last term. Weren't you paying attention?"

"Er…"

Ginny slammed her fork down on her plate and glared at Ron. "What are you getting at, Ron? You never pay attention in class either. You probably spent all afternoon reading your stupid textbook in your room just so you could impress Hermione."

Ron would have kicked her if she'd been anywhere near him. "I did not!" He denied it as if denial were a reflex.

"Did too!" she shot back.

"That's enough," bellowed Mrs. Weasley from the other end of the table. "Some of us are trying to enjoy a pleasant conversation. Fleur, why don't you talk about the wedding?"

"Well, I zink that ze flowers ought to be pink…" began Fleur with zeal.

"How nice," Mrs. Weasley interrupted. "Arthur, how was work today?"

Mrs. Weasley's interruption caused Ginny to snicker, and Harry speared his green beans with vicious enthusiasm. But a miracle occurred when Ron discovered that Hermione was smiling at him, a genuine, apologetic smile. Unable to help it, Ron smiled back, feeling all his anger and frustration vanish into the air.

-----

The summer weeks passed so quickly that by the end Ron felt they had been a dream. Harry and he and Ginny talked Quidditch for hours just like nothing more serious could have ever come into their minds. If they could convince Hermione to join, they would stage a scrimmage match, which was something Ron and Ginny had not been able to do after Fred and George's departure from the Burrow. The extra company took pressure off Fleur (and also the people who didn't want to talk to Fleur), which made dinner conversations ten times more pleasant. But best of all, he and Hermione hadn't had a single row. And sometimes she would let him tickle her or teach her how to hit a Bludger. Once, he'd gotten bored and made her a crown of wildflowers, and when he'd set it on her head, she'd worn it for a full half-hour!

Ron felt so comfortable with their routine that he feared what might happen when classes started up again. He didn't want anything to disturb the fragile peace between him and Hermione, although he supposed it was inevitable that their tempers would spark sooner or later…


	2. Weasley, King of Patheticness

Author's Notes: Yes, to confirm my readers' suspicions, this is a missing moments story. And I have Hermione and Ron's first meeting after the Birthday Surprise all written! It just needs to be polished. Plus, I have to write all the stuff that comes before it... I don't write sequentially.

But I just had to write this. When I read Half-Blood Prince, I remembered feeling exactly like Ron was feeling. What he was doing made so much sense that I thought, "I have to write this. It'll be therapeutic for my rotten childhood." Ok, actually my childhood wasn't that rotten, but I do remember feeling pathetic and helpless a lot. So anyway, this will save me money on psychiatrists.

Weasley, King of Patheticness +

-----

Ron was old enough to realize his sulking was pathetic, but not old enough to stop himself from doing it.

He nearly stalked off after the encounter with Slughorn, but he managed to control himself at least enough to sit in the common room with Harry and Hermione and Ginny. Even so, he felt all the bile in his stomach lurch upward into his mouth as he listened on the periphery of the conversation that was dominated almost entirely by Harry and Hermione. As he sat, he pictured Harry and Hermione going to Slughorn's stupid party.

They weren't having fun in his imagination, but they were huddled together cracking jokes and whispering about how they'd like to leave. But Slughorn was trying to draw them in conversation anyway, because they were _important_, and they were going to be Aurors or something someday and Ron wasn't. Even though Ron had made prefect, that was only because Dumbledore had taken pity on him, and somehow Slughorn knew it and Slughorn didn't take pity on people. Even Neville Longbottom had gotten invited to one of Slughorn's gatherings, and all he ever did was trip over things and forget passwords.

But wasn't Ron's father the head of the department of the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects? Weren't his brothers successful entrepreneurs? Hadn't his own sister merited an invitation? Slughorn didn't know any of that, and probably didn't even know that he was related to Ginny. But maybe someday Slughorn would find out and _then_ Ron would be important enough to merit an invitation.

Ron decided that he wouldn't go, not even to be polite. He'd refuse, just as Hermione and Harry ought to have done. Why should all those strangers be more helpful to Harry and Hermione than Ron had been? It was laughable that Zabini or McLaggen would ever give them a leg up in their careers. It was more laughable still to think that Harry and Hermione could even worry about their careers right now when the whole wizarding world was at war.

Ron Weasley had stood beside them in the Department of Mysteries. That ought to count for something more worthwhile than a bunch of rich strangers. But of course, stupid English politeness _would_ prevail. Stupid Slughorn. Stupid Club. Stupid Harry. Stupid Hermione.

He peeked a little to see whether or not his friends had noticed his ill humor, only to find them still deep in discussion. So Ron sat with his arms folded, staring at the ceiling and anywhere else rather than stare at Harry and Hermione. He couldn't understand their insensitivity.

The only time he was startled out of his brooding was when Hermione called his attention to his father's presence in the newspaper. But when it turned out to be about something Harry had done, Ron allowed his attention to wander once again. As it wandered, his thoughts bumbled over random memories and snippets of conversation that only made him feel worse. Once he so distinctly recalled Hermione saying to Harry, _"You've never been more fanciable," _that for a moment Ron thought he was hearing her repeat it again.

With a sigh, he realized that the only thing he and Hermione shared anymore was their common disbelief in Harry's latest theory pertaining to Draco Malfoy.

So when Harry and Hermione's conversation turned to Slughorn's party once more, Ron didn't try to control himself. "Well," he said, recognizing this as the excuse to leave he'd been wanting all evening, "as I'm not invited to any parties, I think I'll go to bed." And with that, stomped off to the boys' dormitories.

Later, in his room, Ron found himself picturing what life might be like if Harry and Hermione were to go out. Horrible, he knew without guessing. He wouldn't even be able to beat Harry up because he couldn't tell his friend not to be happy. And he couldn't yell at Hermione because she would surely never speak to him again. And that would be like slowly suffocating or like losing a leg or an arm or maybe his whole heart.

It would be nights and nights of Ron flopping down on this bed and peering up into a dreamworld of Hermione kissing him with her hair falling over her shoulders so it tickled his cheeks, only to wake up and find that Harry Potter had gotten there first.

Harry Potter, the Boy Who Stole His Best Mate's Girl.

Harry Potter, the Weasel Who Weaseled Her Away from Weasley.

Ron couldn't even hate him for doing it. Harry was like his brother.

When a tear threatened to fall, Ron sniffed and wiped it away roughly. He wasn't going to cry about this. He was almost of age now, and he couldn't act like a petulant little boy anymore. First of all, he was being ridiculous. So they had been laughing together in the Great Hall, big deal? They laughed together all the time. Harry was his best mate, and as far as he knew there was nothing, absolutely _nothing_ between him and Hermione. Moreover, Harry would have said something or asked for permission because Harry respected his opinion.

It was only Hermione who thought he was stupid! And she'd know what it was like to take him for granted. Ron decided that he would just disappear from her life, and then she'd be sorry. But the prospect of life without Hermione seemed so bleak that Ron almost began to cry again at the thought of it. So he wouldn't disappear from her life, but he could still refrain from talking to her. Then she'd have to ask him what was wrong, and he could tell her. Ron liked the picture he painted of a sobbing Hermione, begging on her knees for forgiveness.

_"I didn't mean to upset you, Ron. Please, it's only you I love! Please oh please oh please speak to me again."_

_"Well, all right, Hermione. I'll forgive you if you promise never to flirt with Harry again."_

_"Oh, I swear! I swear! I'll never talk to him again unless you say it's ok."_

_"Well, that's a bit extreme, Hermione. After all, you are good **friends**, so I give you permission to talk to Harry."_

_"You're too good, Ron. I don't deserve it at all." _

When he had gone over the same fantasy for the hundredth time, it became so vivid in his mind that Ron felt it had actually happened. And for once, Ron managed to fall asleep feeling perfectly content.

-----

When Ron woke up in the morning, even if his awakening was due to Harry's _Levicorpus _spell suspending him in the air, he found that all malice towards his friends had disappeared. And when he and Harry met Hermione for breakfast, during which no one said a word about Slughorn and everyone talked about the impending trip to Hogsmeade, Ron heartily forgave them and tried hard not to emit a single snipe. His resolution, however, was short-lived. Unfortunately, in recounting the events of the early morning, Ron made the mistake of Harry's spell once more than was really necessary. He had been delighted by the Prince's ingenuity, but in all the guffawing around the table Ron had forgotten that Hermione would not share his opinion. However, in the middle of his zealous fabrication of the Prince's history, Ron was rudely reminded of this fact.

"Was this spell, by any chance, another one from that potion book of yours?" Hermione asked in the middle of their merrymaking.

Ron glanced at Harry, realizing too late that he'd gotten him into trouble. He shoved a sausage into his mouth as he waited for the results.

"Always jump to the worst conclusion, don't you?" said Harry.

Unphased, Hermione pressed on. "Was it?"

"Well, yeah, it was, but so what?"

Ron watched them bicker, unable to help feeling a little pleased that Hermione was upset with Harry for once instead of him. But soon enough the pleasure gave way to guilt and Ron decided he needed to fix his mistake and save Harry from the Wrath of Hermione. She was ruining what had seemed at first to be a promising morning.

"It was a laugh!" said Ron. "Just a laugh, Hermione, that's all!"

"Dangling people upside down by the ankle?" she shot back. "Who puts their time and energy into making up spells like that?"

Somehow this seemed like a challenge, another example of Hermione's scholastic elitism. Nothing could ever be worthwhile for her unless it led to good grades. With a resigned shrug, Ron answered her: "Fred and George. It's their kind of thing…" He trailed off when he couldn't think of another good example.

Harry took up the baton.

"My dad used this spell," he said at length. "I – Lupin told me."

"Maybe your dad did use it, Harry," said Hermione, "but he's not the only one. We've seen a whole bunch of people use it, in case you've forgotten. Dangling people in the air. Making them float along, asleep, helpless."

Ron felt this was an unfair comparison, and decided the conversation had gone far enough. He knew only too well that Hermione would twist everybody's words until she won her point. Comparing Harry to a Death Eater was ludicrous, and anyway she wasn't really angry about floating people around. What she really meant was that she felt inadequate in comparison to a text book and couldn't stand to see anything good it. And that was exactly what Ron told her. "You don't like the Prince, Hermione, because he's better than you at Potions."

"It's got nothing to do with that!" she barked back, and the races were off. Hermione took off on a stream-of-consciousness argument, which Ron knew from experience meant that she was within one millimeter of reaching _spitting-mad_. "I just think it's very irresponsible to start performing spells when you don't even know what they're for, and stop talking about 'the Prince' as if it's his title, I bet it's just a stupid nickname, and it doesn't seem as though he was a very nice person to me!"

Ron's jaw twitched with anger. Who was she calling irresponsible! She kept staring right at him and screaming, "You you you!" And why? Because he'd been laughing about something _Harry_ had done? Ron turned bright, ready to pounce on her and only refrained from doing so because Harry beat him to it.

"I don't see where you get that from," Harry argued. "If he'd been a budding Death Eater he wouldn't have been boasting about being 'half-blood,' would he?"

"The Death Eaters can't all be pure-blood, there aren't enough pure-blood wizards left," said Hermione. "I expect most of them are half-bloods pretending to be pure. It's only Muggle-borns they hate, they'd be quite happy to let you and Ron join up."

"There is no way they'd let me be a Death Eater!" cried Ron, sending a piece of his breakfast flying from his fork when he slammed it on the table. He stared at Hermione, sitting straight up with the most self-righteous expression on her face that he'd ever seen, and detested it. It was as if she thought she was better than him just because no one could even conceive of asking her to be a Death Eater. Was being called a 'mudblood' any worse than being persecuted for being part of a family that never used the word? It was strange that as she was drawing false distinctions between them, she called attention to the one that could never be breached. Hermione would never quite understand what it was _to be born_ a wizard that other wizards shunned. "My whole family are blood traitors!" he tried to explain, but felt that as always he could not express himself with any justice. "That's as bad as Muggle-borns to Death Eaters!" And perhaps it was worse.

"And they'd love to have me," said Harry, breaking the tension. "We'd be best pals if they didn't keep trying to do me in."

Hermione smiled, and the debate was at an end. Good will and fun returned for the moment. But when they were all in Hogsmeade later, they ran into Slughorn, which caused Hermione to start enumerating the merits of those stupid parties.

She just couldn't understand what it was like to be left out, could she? Even when she changed the subject, Ron's felt his mood dampened.

-----

Ron's mood dampened a lot over the next few days as more and more people began whispering about the Slughorn's favoritism. The _Slug Club_ wasn't an easy thing to escape, apparently. It didn't matter whether you were in it or not. Harry couldn't stop the invitations, and Ron couldn't stop himself from hearing about them. Sometimes he'd manage to get Harry and Hermione off the topic only to have Ginny start in. The parties were also starting to be good subjects for gossip. He'd heard that Zabini and Malfoy had fallen out because Malfoy hadn't received an invitation. It was obviously a false rumor, since Zabini and Malfoy still enjoyed one another's sneers across the Slytherin table, but Ron dreaded the day when he'd hear the rumors about Cormac McLaggen and Hermione Granger hooking up with another one of Slughorn's mad tea parties.

The latest soiree came up in Herbology one day soon after Katie Bell's necklace mishap. Hermione set down the slimy pod she'd reaped from the prickly bramble that was the subject of today's class and said, "Slughorn's going to have a Christmas party, Harry, and there's no way you'll be able to wriggle out of this one because he actually asked me to check your free evenings, so he could be sure to have it on a night you can come."

Ron couldn't help the sarcasm that dripped out his mouth, "And this is another party just for Slughorn's favorites, is it?"

"Just for the Slug Club, yes," she had the nerve to respond, as if the Slug Club were something like a chess club or a choir that you could join as long as you had the free time.

"_Slug Club_,_"_ Ron mocked her when she tried to defend the name again. "It's pathetic." And it was. Ron pictured Slughorn presiding over his guests, treating them like puppets, pulling their strings when he wanted them to talk, buttering their tiny crumpets for them in his obscenely large hands. Or maybe he'd make them play getting-to-know-you games, forcing them to wear name tags and walk around each other in two circles in order to make them dance. In the second vision, he seemed to be something of a gentleman dandy, society's pimp. "Well, I hope you enjoy your party," he sneered. "Why don't you try hooking up with McLaggen, then Slughorn can make you King and Queen Slug –"

But as Ron glared at the floor, waiting for Harry to return with a pod that Ron had accidentally sent hurtling across the room, Hermione said the most surprising thing.

"We're allowed to bring guests, and I was _going _to ask you to come…" She was quiet as she spoke. Almost shy. It was strange, for Ron had never thought Hermione could be shy.

Moreover, Ron couldn't believe what he'd just heard. She was asking him to come as her guest? Harry wasn't doing the asking, which meant…well, what did it mean? Did it mean she fancied him?

"…but," she kept going, "if you think it's that stupid then I won't bother."

This last bit went over Ron's head. He was still processing the first half of her statement. Hermione was asking him to be her date. Right?

"You were going to ask me?" he inquired, trying to clarify the situation.

"Yes," she snapped. "But obviously if you'd rather I _hooked up with McLaggen_…"

Ron was still trying to figure out whether it was a date or not, and let her challenge go unmet. "No I wouldn't," he let himself say. It was the most honest he had ever felt with Hermione. It seemed to make her happy, or at least it made her blush. His eyes met hers for a moment and he thought that maybe, just maybe it was possible that she liked him as more than a friend. Maybe this was the start of something wonderful.

However, Harry ruined the moment when he shattered their pod bowl. Ron felt suddenly very uncomfortable in Hermione's presence, feeling that something so amazing had just happened that, if he stayed beside her one more second, that something would vanish like smoke in the wind. Nevertheless, he threw himself into the lesson and tried not to feel too happy when Hermione's arm brushed against his.

-----

The match against Slytherin was coming up that weekend, and to say that Ron was nervous at practice was an understatement. He was terrified of ruing their chances. He was well aware that if he did, Harry would go down in Hogwarts History as the first Gryffindor Captain to lag behind in 4th place since…well, since a long time ago. Ron exerted his every effort, even during the Chaser drills when the focus of the practice was on scoring goals instead of blocking them, but somehow he got worse every minute. With each goal he allowed in, Ron's terror amplified itself by ten until the two skinny girls zooming towards him looked more like giants on twigs and the Quaffle looked like an asteroid.

Something had always nagged at the back of Ron's mind that told him McLaggen was the better player. And the moment he messed up, Ron just knew Harry would regret letting him on the team. Oh, Harry would keep him on the team anyway because they were friends, but after coming in fourth in the Quidditch Cup Finals, Harry's friendship would turn to resentment and loathing. Then next year McLaggen would be on the team and Harry would hate him and Hermione would go out with McLaggen and…

His train of thought led him to miss another goal.

"Ron, pay attention!" Harry coached him from the sidelines. Ron tried to obey, but Ginny was playing Chaser relentlessly and he couldn't stop a single one. Frantic, Ron decided that if he just flew erratically in front of the goal, he could confuse the chasers enough that they wouldn't be able to knock one in. But this only resulted in Ginny and Demelza double-teaming him in an attempt to fake him out. Demelza came within a meter of him, too far for Ron to stop her from passing Ginny, but close enough that he could try. Somehow his block caught her in the mouth and bloodied her lower lip.

He watched her circle to the ground in horror as Ginny chastised him. He followed Demelza to the ground and threw off his keeper gloves. Practice was mercifully over.

"I played like a sack of dragon dung," he said later as he and Harry sauntered into the castle and up towards Gryffindor Tower. Everyone else had gone ahead, but Harry had stayed behind to put away the equipment and Ron had stayed with him.

"No, you didn't," Harry reassured him as they climbed the steps toward their wing of the castle. "You're the best Keeper I tried out, Ron. Your only problem is nerves. You've got the speed, the skill, the technique. You know the other teams' weaknesses inside and out. Better yet, you're a team player. Do you think for one moment that McLaggen would have apologized to Demelza?"

Ron wished Harry hadn't brought up Demelza again and cast him a forlorn glance of disbelief. Harry winced, but patted him on the back. "Well, he wouldn't have. He'd be too busy telling her what she did wrong. But you're not like that Ron. You really care about your team. All you need to do is learn how to keep your focus."

"Yeah, yeah —" mumbled Ron. "I wish I could figure out —"

Ron pulled aside the tapestry that blocked the short cut to Gryffindor Tower only to discover two crazy students behind it, snogging for all they were worth. He gasped in embarrassment and disgust, and then…

_Oh Bloody Hell._

Ron was shocked when he recognized who it was snogging in the corner. _Ginny?_ How disgusting! And how could he ever look at Dean Thomas again? He would have thought their tongues were glued together if not for the fact that they were moving around like snakes trying to slither into the other person's mouth.

He stifled a gag. "Oi!" he exclaimed, just wanting them to stop. He hadn't even formed the intent to reprimand her. He merely wanted them to stop before his eyeballs melted out of their sockets.

"What?" said Ginny, when she broke away from Dean. The expression on her face was unrepentant at best.

Ron stared at her. "I don't want to find my own sister snogging people in public!"

"This was a deserted corridor till you came butting in!" she shouted. It was dark, but Ron knew that his sister's face was beet red. Meanwhile, Dean wrestled free of the mess and wisely hastened back to the common room, leaving his sister before him doing the best impression of their mother that he'd ever seen.

"Right," she started as if she were laying out class guidelines. If Hermione were present, she would have been taking notes, "Let's get this straight once and for all. It is none of your business who I go out with or what I do with them, Ron —"

Ron didn't know what she meant by "what I do with them," but he decided it was one of those phrases you shouldn't delve into too deeply.

"Yeah, it is! D'you think I want people say my sister's a —"

"A what? A _what_, exactly?"

Harry desisted from his impersonation of a rock long enough to interject a, "He doesn't mean anything, Ginny —"

And maybe all Ron meant was that he didn't want his little sister to be so knowledgeable, or maybe that he wanted his little sister to be with his best mate. Whatever Ron meant, Ron himself wasn't sure what it was; but Ginny felt she had a pretty good idea.

And then all Hell broke loose.

"Oh yes he does!" Ginny shrieked, "Just because _he's_ never snogged anyone in his life, just because the best kiss _he's_ ever had is from our Auntie Muriel —"

Ron mentally begged her to stop. Outwardly, he attacked. He couldn't be shamed like this in front of Harry. He had never told Harry anything about his inexperience, but had always been so careful to seem as if he _might_ have had some. "Shut your mouth!"

"No, I will not! I've seen you with Phlegm, hoping she'll kiss you on the cheek every time you see her, it's pathetic! If you went out and got a bit of snogging done yourself, you wouldn't mind so much that everyone else does it!"

At that moment, Ron hated Ginny. How could a sister talk like this to her own brother? She must have watched him all summer and somehow had _known_ that he fancied Fleur enough to like her pecks on the cheek. And that meant she'd been storing up that information that long just so she could throw it back in his face, in front of _Harry_, who was better than him at everything, but had never cared...until this humiliation. Ron could have cried if he weren't so furious.

He yanked out his wand and aimed it for her head. "You don't know what you're talking about! Just because I don't do it in public —!"

Harry jumped in his way, while Ginny went into mad hysterics as he failed to make a clear shot. _Shut your stupid face!_ He could kill her.

"Been kissing Pigwidgeon, have you? Or have you got a picture of Auntie Muriel stashed under your pillow?" Auntie Muriel was as big as a house.

"You —" He aimed his best hex at her nasty, laughing face and was enraged to find that it missed.

"Harry's snogged Cho Chang!" she cried. "And Hermione snogged Viktor Krum —!"

Ron gagged on his own tongue.

_What?_

From that point on, Ron didn't understand anything else Ginny was shouting at him. All he could hear was the sound of his heart breaking.

_Hermione...what?_

"…you've got about as much experience as a twelve-year old!" he heard Ginny finish.

He was vaguely aware that Ginny had gone and that Harry was leading him back to the common room. Meanwhile, Ron's whole being was shaking with unrepressed fury. Twice he could bear it no more and punched the stone wall with the side of his fist, not relishing the feeling of broken knuckles, but wanting to hurt something, even if it was himself.

A little girl crossed their paths and Ron swore at her. She dropped what looked to be her sneakoscope in the hallway and Ron kicked it so hard that it shattered in the corridor.

Harry was silent beside him, for which Ron would be forever grateful. He didn't acknowledge a single thing Ginny had said and honestly didn't seem to have processed it. Before they reached the common room, Ron turned to him. "D'you think Hermione did snog Krum?" he asked, trying to keep his voice even.

Harry seemed confused. "What? Oh…er…"

And Ron knew by Harry's avoidant stammering that the answer was yes.

They went up to the dormitories together in silence. Once again, Ron found himself collapsed on his bed, staring up into the ceiling as he thought of a girl, who neither thought of him nor cared if he thought of her.

_Hermione_ had snogged _Viktor_.

All summer…all year…whenever he had asked why she was writing to Krum, she had always said they were only friends. Just friends! And he had believed her, more or less. He'd had his suspicions that she was lying, but he had always thought he was being unreasonable. Ron had thought Hermione would never lie to him.

But she _had_ been lying the whole time. She hadn't wanted to be inconvenienced, and so she'd side stepped the truth to avoid what? His outburst? His temper tantrum? How would she know that he would have yelled at her if she'd tried to tell him the truth?

He didn't always react badly! Maybe he would have accepted it if she had told him that she truly liked Viktor and wasn't just using him for a date to the Yule Ball. She had told Harry, but she hadn't thought Ron Weasley was worth the trouble.

Hermione must think he was pathetic. She'd never said it in so many words, but she insulted him often enough. The words, "_emotional range of a teaspoon"_ came to mind.

How foolish of him to think she'd really wanted to him to go with her to that party. She'd only been trying to keep him from making fun of Slughorn, just a means of shutting him up.

Well, he'd show her! Ron decided he didn't want to go unless she apologized. Only then would he tell her that he'd think about it. He didn't know what to do with her at a party anyway. Ginny was right. He had no experience with girls. He remembered perfectly his disastrous attempt at dating back when he'd taken Padma to the Yule Ball.

Never, never in Ron's wildest dreams had he thought Hermione snogged Krum. Now that he knew the truth, Ron couldn't fantasize about kissing her anymore without thinking about how she'd be comparing him to Krum. Hermione would squint her eyes the way she did whenever she was watching him stir his potion the wrong way, and then she'd back away from him in disgust.

Maybe she'd snogged other boys too. He wouldn't know because she never talked to him about those sorts of things. Maybe Hermione was really good at snogging, but he wouldn't ever find out. Maybe Ginny had told her that Ron Weasley had never snogged anybody and thought it was disgusting.

He had been beginning to think that Hermione liked him, but if she had liked him and she'd been so _good_ at snogging, then why hadn't she just said she was interested? Girls could say so now. It wasn't the 19th Century. Lavender Brown was always giggling at him, for example. Romilda Vane had approached Harry on numerous occasions.

Apparently, Hermione wasn't shy about these things anymore since she'd had _experience_, but she still hadn't ever indicated she was interested in him as anything more than friends.

It hurt that she'd let Krum touch her, but not him. It hurt because he hadn't really ever liked any girl except for her. He hadn't ever wanted to kiss anybody except for her.

With a shuddering sigh, Ron closed his eyes and tried to think of how he could fix it all in the morning. He didn't want to be pathetic anymore.

However, when he fell asleep he was plagued by dreams where Hermione came to profess her love, but he couldn't understand her because she was speaking Bulgarian. He couldn't find an interpreter anywhere, and eventually she gave up and went back to Viktor Krum.

-----


	3. Dillying with Lavender

Author's Notes: I realized that I'd forgotten to insert a disclaimer, so here's one now. I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters. They all belong to J.K. Rowling and her publishing company. Etc. etc.

Dillying with Lavender +

by Jen Ann Bradley

-----

In the morning after the disaster with Ginny, Ron came down to breakfast with a mission to make Hermione Granger suffer. His plan had been the result of long hours of arduous thinking, and he was more than ready to put it into effect. However, once he entered the Great Hall and saw her dutifully remove her books from his seat to welcome him, Ron nearly abandoned his resolution. Out of habit, Ron began to delve into his favorite morning fantasy of having Hermione kiss him good morning. When he found it tainted by the idea of smelling Krum's breath on her lips, Ron remembered his intent to give her the full silent treatment.

Thus, Ron managed a sneer as he approached the customary table, before taking the seat by Harry and ignoring Hermione's obvious invitation. Once again, however, he almost relented when he saw what might have been confusion and hurt cross her pretty face. Then again, it was nice to see she cared enough to look hurt. Ron decided to let her suffer for a while. Besides, it was also possible that he had misinterpreted Hermione's expression and that she actually didn't care whether he was angry or not.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked, quietly, confirming his suspicions that she didn't care enough to ask him what was wrong.

"Fine," he snapped, afraid that if he said anything more he'd say something nice and ruin his plan.

"Oh. That's good," she replied. "Could you pass the oatmeal?" she asked, politely after a moment's pause.

"It's closer to Harry, why don't you ask him?"

Hermione just stared at him, her beautiful chin quivering, and said nothing. Ron tried not to notice, but relented long enough to pass her the oatmeal. He practically shoved it into her hands.

"Here, take it," he said gruffly. "I'm not hungry."

Her eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, but Ron saw it and knew he'd brought on a storm. "Well," she fumed, "You had better eat something because after Transfiguration, you'll be positively exhausted from all that copying off other peoples' notes."

Ron looked at her with all the venom he could muster.

"Er…" stammered Harry from beside him. "What's gotten into you, Ron?" he asked, although Ron was certain he already knew. After all, he'd been there when Ginny had said what she'd said about _Krum_. Harry was suing for peace.

Unfortunately for Harry, war had started and Ron simply wouldn't let it go. "Nothing," he said, sarcastically, "Hermione was just looking out for my well-being. Weren't you, Hermione?"

She stared back at him, obviously trying to figure out if this translated to an insult. Ron mentally dared Hermione to admit she'd been heckling him, but after a moment of silence, she turned back to her plate. Finally, she scooped a spoonful of oatmeal onto the platter and shoved the bowl right back at him without saying another word.

Ron hissed with frustration. Why wasn't she acknowledging that he was angry? She was supposed to ask so he could tell her why he was behaving this way. He couldn't just _say_ what he'd heard about her and Viktor. She'd deny it and get angry when he accused her of lying, and then this whole mess would look like his fault.

"So, gotten any letters lately?" sniped Ron, knowing she'd automatically think of Krum.

But Hermione merely gaped at him. She let out a surprised and airy, "No —"

Ron hadn't quite expected the "no," so he backed down and remained silent for the remainder of the meal. He recognized when Hermione wasn't going take the bait. He would have to regroup, but he was determined to make her understand.

-----

Ron treated Hermione with cold indifference for the rest of the morning, which was surprisingly much harder to do than it had been when they were younger. He found that he had gotten accustomed to her constant presence and missed it when she was gone. Sometimes when he had planned to be angry, he kept quiet so she would stay near. Ron also felt that Hermione had become accustomed to his temper and was not so easily frightened away as before. However, this in itself was irksome. After all, if she'd gotten _used_ to his temper, that must mean she thought he was some sort of temperamental freak, who had to be treated differently from other people. Hermione must have trained herself to tiptoe around him like a gamekeeper would tiptoe around a dragon or bow before a hippogriff. What rubbish! Hadn't she ever tried asking him what was wrong? Then she'd see how amicable he could be.

Ron was pondering all of this in between their afternoon classes, as he stood by one of the windows of an alcove in the wing of the castle overlooking the great lake. It was the brightest time of day—and the water was shimmering under the midday sun—when Hermione came to join him. He was standing to one side of the window, leaning against the wall of the alcove, and she mimicked his posture on the opposite side. For a while neither of them did anything other than watch the last leaves of the season drift to the earth below. However, it was scenic and romantic, and Ron didn't want to be there with Hermione while he was supposed to be angry with her. Unfortunately, he could not count on Harry to come rescue him, for Harry had gone to the infirmary to check on Katie Bell.

Meanwhile, Hermione was watching him with her books secured against her chest, covered primly by her school robes. She exhaled, which caused an errant lock of hair to blow upwards and fall back against her mouth. She lifted a hand to swipe it behind her ear and smiled, her bright eyes sparkling with contentment. "What a beautiful day," she announced.

Ron wondered why she'd said it. She must have figured out by now that he was angry with her. It was difficult to remain angry, but he didn't know any other way to make her understand how hurt he was. So Ron chose to ignore her in the hopes that she would ask him what was wrong. Hermione did not ask, unfortunately. Instead, she peered up at him with a curious, questioning look in her eyes and didn't utter another word for a long time. Ron wondered if she would ever care.

"I noticed Lavender staring at you in class," she said at length.

Ron considered this piece of information. "Oh yeah?" he asked, then felt irritated that she'd tricked him into speaking. "Maybe she saw something she liked."

Hermione went into a pout, like she usually did whenever he said something silly in class. Ron took it to mean she didn't see what anyone could like in him. Even more perplexing was that her whole demeanor seemed to imply that she blamed him for Lavender. Ron knew this couldn't possibly be his fault. In the end, he pushed away from his post at the wall, feeling even more injured than before.

"See you in class," he said, dismissively. Then he trudged off in the other direction. After abandoning Hermione by the window, Ron stalked all the way back to the Gryffindor Common Room and slammed the portrait shut behind him. Once inside, Ron discovered Lavender Brown on the couch, giggling with Parvati.

"Hey Ron!" Lavender called after he had he entered, undaunted by his gloomy expression. Ron wondered at this, and for decency's sake he tried to look happy and think of something nice to say; but mostly he just wanted to go sulk in his room.

"Hi Lavender," was all Ron mustered before continuing to his room. When he reached the bed, Ron collapsed on top with a dismal flop. He tried to cheer himself up. He even tried to conjure up the image of Hermione smiling at him in his mother's kitchen, but all this did was produce the vivid memory of Hermione dancing with Krum.

Ron sat up and removed his shoes, thinking very hard about skipping potions, but knowing he'd never hear the end of it if he did. But maybe, just maybe if he wished hard enough, he could make himself disappear from the planet.

Everybody would be better off. Harry could recruit McLaggen. Ginny could snog Dean. Hermione could have more time to do her own homework.

He heard the sound of girlish laughter from far across the hall and thought of Lavender Brown smiling at him when he'd walked into the common room.

_I saw Lavender staring at you in class_.

Huh. Come to think of it, Ron remembered seeing a lot of Lavender recently. She was omnipresent, in fact, and always smiling. She always had a greeting ready for him and never failed to laugh at his jokes. Slowly, in his darkest hour, it dawned on Ron that Lavender Brown might fancy him. It was possibly the first time a girl ever liked him, so Ron tried to savor the idea. However, he felt flattered, but no happier than before.

At the end of the day Lavender was still Lavender, and Ron hadn't ever fancied her. Although, he had to admit she was pretty. She did smell nice, and her eyes were interesting…and very kind. She always laughed at his jokes. The only thing that seemed to be wrong with Lavender was that she wasn't Hermione; and Ron wasn't so sure anymore that this was a bad thing.

-----

Ron's bad mood did not improve in the evening. Especially when Quidditch Practice turned into another fiasco. Once again, Ron failed miserably as Keeper. He couldn't manage to block a single Quaffle, even when the entire team took pity on him and started hitting easy ones that arched slowly and came directly to his hands.

Even Ginny, who normally hit the Quaffle as if she had a vendetta against it, sent Ron an easy one. But when Ron watched it whiz behind him and through the hoop, he couldn't bear it anymore.

Unable to mask his crying by any other means, Ron began to shout at the Chasers. "What kind of Quidditch are you playing!" he taunted them. "That wasn't even worthy of being stopped!"

He waited for Ginny to call him on his bluff, but to his relief (or dismay, he was unsure which it was) she shook her head at him and flew to the other end of the pitch with not so much as a "pooh pooh."

Demelza and the Beaters remained behind, but Ron knew he'd be unable to block their shots with his pathetic skill, so he chased them away from the goal. When there was no one to chase, he jeered at them.

"Keep on your own bloody side or the referee will call a foul," screamed Ron, glowering at Demelza. "If you keep on like this, Demelza, I swear you're going to lose the next match all on your own!"

Ron could only be so daring when Ginny was on the other side of the pitch. He knew that Ginny would have struck him in response to a challenge like that. However, Demelza seemed to have a quieter disposition and to be more inclined to believe what other people said of her. After he threw another insult her way, Ron suddenly realized she was crying.

"Oh stop that wheezing or I'll hit you in the mouth again," scoffed Ron, incapable of admitting he'd gone too far.

"You shut up and leave her alone!" shouted Peakes, brandishing his bat.

Ron started towards him but was stopped by a very angry looking Harry, coming from Ginny's direction. "ENOUGH!" he shouted before barking directions to everyone and ending the practice. They all scattered, but not before throwing well-aimed glares in Ron's direction. He even thought he'd heard someone shout, "That prat! Who does he think he is?"

Ron waited for them all to leave so he could apologize to Harry for ruining practice yet again. But before he had the chance, Harry looked at him square in the face and said, "Ron, you're my best mate, but carry on treating the rest of them like this and I'm going to kick you off the team."

Ron's first instinct was to punch Harry for his defection, but he managed to control himself. Perhaps it was because his depression was, at this moment, outweighing his anger; but somehow, even amidst the red haze of his anger, Ron knew he couldn't strike Harry. What Harry had said was fair enough, and it was a testament to their good friendship that he hadn't said it before in front of the others. It was a horrible thing to do, lashing out at one's teammates because you were rubbish yourself. Ron felt the most honorable thing to do was to bow out. "I resign," he said, "I'm pathetic."

"You're not pathetic and you're not resigning!" said Harry, grabbing hold of him in his predictably loyal way. "You can save anything when you're on form, it's a mental problem you've got!"

"You calling me mental?" Ron sputtered.

"Yeah, maybe I am!"

They glared at each other, but Ron felt the tears coming in behind his eyes and knew he had to get away fast. "I know you haven't got any time to find another Keeper, so I'll play tomorrow," he offered. "But if we lose, and we will, I'm taking myself off the team."

With that, Ron slunk away to Gryffindor Tower in order to have a manly cry before dinner. But as he climbed past the portrait he once again ran into a smiling Lavender Brown. Ron was tempted to ignore her until he remembered that she fancied him. In fact, she was probably the only person in Gryffindor that he could say welcomed his presence right now. Feeling glad for her enthusiasm to see him, Ron returned her smile and inquired after her day.

"Oh, it was good!" she said, and if she were surprised at his sudden kindness, she didn't show it. "I tried out a non-verbal spell this morning to make my finger nails grow and it worked."

Ron nodded, blankly. "Sounds neat."

"Oh, hardly," she said with a giggle. "I bet you've done tons more interesting spells. Hermione probably teaches you new things all the time."

"Hermione doesn't _teach_ me anything," he snapped, instantly defensive at the mention of Hermione. His shortness seemed to please Lavender.

"Oh?" she said, her feminine voice turning upward in pleasure. "Too bad for her, then, isn't it?"

Ron felt his brow furrow. He was fairly certain this was flirting, but he wasn't very good at it if it was. It made him nervous, but at least he didn't feel like crying anymore. This strange encounter had cheered him up. But as he'd run out of things to say, Ron decided the best thing to do would be smile at Lavender and depart, leaving an aura of mystery behind him.

So he did.

Thirty minutes later, Ron realized he was about to wreck his aura mystery when he appeared on the steps to go down to dinner and found Lavender waiting for him by the portrait. Without thinking why he did it, Ron veered backwards so he could hide behind the banister. Unfortunately, this caused him to trip on the steps.

Lavender didn't notice because she seemed to have given up waiting and was exiting the door when Ron looked up a second time. However, Hermione, who had just been coming down the stairs leading up to the girls' dormitories, did see his tumble and laughed.

"What are you doing?" she asked, and then looked up to see Lavender's ample backside disappearing through the painting. Her expression turned accusatory when she faced him.

Ron scowled at her, refusing her offer to help him back to his feet. He didn't see why Hermione had to witness every single calamity that befell him.

"How was practice?" she asked.

Ron ignored her as he brushed himself off. "Don't ask," he said, cool as ice.

"Oh," she said. "All right, then."

They continued to the Great Hall in stony silence. Toward the end of their journey, Hermione started to say, "What did I —"

But Ron didn't feel like talking to her about Harry or homework or "the Prince" or Slughorn, which was all she ever talked about. He quickened his step in order to get away and didn't bother holding the door open for her as he strutted into the dining area.

After a lousy dinner and an even lousier dessert, Ron didn't see Hermione again until after breakfast the next morning, at which point he was feeling so glum about the Slytherin match that he wouldn't even attempt a smile for his only admirer.

He pointedly ignored Lavender when she shouted words of encouragement to the back of his head. Ron preferred to stare at the table. Besides, once she saw his miserable performance today, he could guarantee she'd never say anything at him ever again

To make matters worse, Hermione wasn't at his section of the table where he could most conveniently try to make her feel like a Flobberworm. She was off somewhere talking to other people instead of here to wish him good luck. Even though he was angry with her, Ron felt he could use a kiss on the cheek or a kind word from Hermione. At the moment, he was beginning to forget why he was angry at all. However, when she finally appeared to inquire how he and Harry were both doing, Ron found it easy to remember.

"How are you both feeling," she asked from behind him without a modicum of enthusiasm.

"Fine," Harry replied. Ron considered grunting an answer after Harry nudged him. However, when Ron looked down he saw that Harry was not telling him to be nice to Hermione. Instead, he was handing him his glass of pumpkin juice. "There you go, Ron. Drink up," he said.

Ron thought it was a bit odd for Harry to hand him his pumpkin juice, when he was perfectly capable of reaching for it himself. Surely Harry didn't believe he was so pathetic that he couldn't even eat his breakfast without aid.

What happened next clarified the situation. "Don't drink that, Ron!" barked Hermione.

"Why not?" Ron asked, wheeling around to find Hermione glaring lightning bolts at Harry.

"You just put something in that drink," she accused him.

"Excuse me?" Harry said.

"You heard me. I saw you. You just tipped something into Ron's drink. You've got the bottle in your hand right now!"

Ron heard the word 'bottle' and realized what was happening. His best mate had just handed him the key to success. Harry had put _Felix felicis_ in his pumpkin juice! Ron didn't care that it was illegal. Harry was his savior. No more humiliation! No more fear!

"Ron, I warn you, don't drink it!" threatened Hermione behind him. But Ron figured whatever she was threatening to do to him wouldn't matter once he took the potion. In fact, if he took the it, maybe he'd be lucky enough to make her admit that she was a bossy know-it-all, who stabbed her friends in the back by kissing Bulgarian cavemen and _lying_ to them about it!

He downed it like a shot of Firewhisky. "Stop bossing me around, Hermione," he said, smacking his lips to punctuate his point.

However, Hermione wasn't looking at him like she was sorry. Her mouth was hanging open, and she regarded him with disappointment and shame. Ron didn't feel very lucky, and decided that maybe Harry hadn't put anything in his pumpkin juice at all.

It was only after they got to the changing room and discovered that both Malfoy and Vaisey had called off that Ron began to believe again. Harry didn't verify his suspicions, but Ron knew he couldn't in front of the rest of the team. However, once the match started and Ron saved his first Quaffle, a difficult shot at a sharp angle that came zooming at his left arm, Ron knew the truth.

And by his fifth save, Ron Weasley could have believed he had wings.

-----

Gryffindor won by a landslide. What else could have happened with the _Felix Felicis_ on their side? It had been inevitable. And it didn't matter to Ron that he couldn't have made those saves all on his own. What mattered is that everyone _thought_ he could, and that they had cheered for him during the game and currently were hugging him, slapping him on the back like an old war comrade, no matter that he'd bellowed at them so fiercely the day before. They were practically hauling him by the arm toward the changing room so they could rush back to the tower and celebrate.

Nothing could ruin this moment. Not even if Snape were to appear in the changing room with a detention slip would Ron feel that the day's glory had diminished.

This was one day he'd remember forever.

But of course, that was when Hermione appeared. Ron watched her poke her head into the changing room, checking right and left to see if they were alone, her, him and Harry. When she entered he saw that she was somber and fearful and was indulging her nervous habit of twisting her scarf. Ron braced himself, knowing that if nothing else could ruin his mood, Hermione could. After all, he noted bitterly, Hermione could succeed at everything.

"I want a word with you, Harry. You shouldn't have done it. You heard Slughorn, it's illegal."

"What are you going to do, turn us in?" demanded Ron, remembering the time Hermione had taken tattled on Harry because she thought his broom was cursed. The possibility of being caught had not occurred to him, but Hermione would do it if she thought it was the right thing to do. And it was obvious from her stern countenance that she did, in fact, believe that telling would be the right thing to do.

"What are you two talking about?" asked Harry, playing a very convincing dumb.

"You know perfectly well what we're talking about! You spiked Ron's juice with lucky potion at breakfast! Felix Felicis!"

"No, I didn't," said Harry, still as innocent as can be. Ron, on the other hand, was beginning to sweat. He knew Hermione was serious, and he knew Harry did too. But maybe if Hermione had no proof, she couldn't say anything. Maybe he should stop feeling guilty, because if he didn't then he would look guilty, and then she would _know_.

"Yes you did, Harry, and that's why everything went right, there were Slytherin players missing and Ron saved everything!" she stomped her foot on the ground, looking ready to cry.

"I didn't put it in!" cried Harry, pulling something out of his robes. Ron peered at it, and discovered to his amazement that it was the unopened bottle of Felix Felicis. He knew it was impossible, but Harry was grinning at him. Ron struggled to understand.

"I wanted Ron to think I'd done it, so I faked it when I knew you were looking," Harry explained with a laugh. Then Harry looked at Ron as he sputtered with relief and pride.

"You saved everything because you felt lucky. You did it all yourself," said Harry.

Ron had felt pathetic for so long that at first he couldn't grasp what Harry was saying. He forced him to clarify it several times because, frankly, it was too good to be true! When it sank in at last, Ron couldn't help but rattle Hermione for trying to ruin his moment.

_"You added Felix Felicis to Ron's juice this morning, that's why he saved everything!"_ he mimicked her in his best Hermione voice, which included scrunching up his nose and whining so it sounded like someone had just rammed something up her…uh…shirt. If Harry had believed he could save everything, Ron decided that Hermione should have had a little faith as well. "See! I can save goals without help, Hermione!" he exclaimed.

With that, Ron hefted his broomstick up and turned on his heel like a soldier, striding past her as if he were passing an antique tapestry that no one noticed anymore. Ron strutted back to Gryffindor Tower, with his head held high and his broomstick at attention, to meet the cheers of all his housemates. As they slapped him on the back and recounted all of his most spectacular saves, Ron couldn't help but think, _Take that, Hermione_.

Almost immediately after his entry, Lavender Brown ran up to him out of no where. "Oh Ron, you were wonderful!" she exclaimed, clutching his arm and leading him into the center of the room. She was wearing a low cut shirt, and was herself precisely the correct height so that her bosom brushed against his forearm. Most importantly, if he moved his head an inch to the right, he could peer down into her cleavage.

"Was I?" Ron repeated, distractedly.

"You were brilliant! We all thought so."

Ron grinned like a lunatic. Lavender's dark eyelashes batted up at him. Ron recalled something Hermione once told him about how difficult it was to apply mascara properly, but he shoved the thought away. This was not the time to think about Hermione. And he certainly didn't want to think about Lavender's make-up.

"Oh, it was nothing," he said, deciding to play the reluctant hero.

"Don't be so modest!" exclaimed the girl on his arm. "You've put us in a position to win the cup again. Everyone knows what a good Keeper you are."

Ron felt her finger circling on his chest and wondered how it had gotten there. It didn't feel unpleasant, and it was nice to have a girl fawn on him instead of reprimand him as if he were a pack mule. This had never happened to him before. But even if Lavender had lacked novelty, Ron would still have allowed her to lead him to the sheltered corner of the common room.

Once there, he sat down in the nearest lounge chair, allowing Lavender to choose the arm for her seat. As they sat together, she inched very close. So close, in fact that Ron could smell the scent of her perfume in her clothes. "You know," she murmured. "I've fancied you all term."

"Uh huh…" said Ron, absolutely mesmerized by her pretty brown eyes and the way she was tracing the lines of his chest muscles.

"I think you're the best player on the team. Maybe even better than Harry. All he has to do is chase a little gold ball."

"Uh huh," he replied, leaning closer. Lavender was getting closer too. Ron could make out the little freckles on her nose and the black gunk that had escaped from the corner of her left eye. When Ron felt her minty breath on his lips, images of Ginny exploding as she called him "pathetic" came to mind like a spectacular fireworks display. And when his lips met Lavender's at last, Ron could practically hear Hermione's bossy voice trail off into a gasp.

Lavender's lips were mushier than he'd expected, but the sensation was not altogether unpleasant. He let her do most of the work, until he'd figured out basically what it was all about. She led with her tongue, so he did the same. But all in all it was a lot of work, and Ron might have stopped sooner if not for his resolution to stop being pathetic.

Maybe fifteen minutes into the snog session, Ron remembered that they were kissing in public where anyone might see them, the very thing he had told Ginny not to do! He broke away, scanning the room for Harry or Hermione, hoping Harry hadn't witnessed his hypocrisy. Luckily, he found the coast clear. No one currently in the room would care what Ron Weasley was doing in a corner with Lavender Brown. Most of the Gryffindors were ignoring them, and some had found corners of their own.

"Ron?"

Ron looked back at Lavender and found her pout irresistible. She was upset because he had stopped kissing her. She was upset because she wanted him to do it again! Ron didn't mind kissing her again, but he didn't want to be here where Harry and the _other_ friend might find him.

He smiled and said, "C'mon, let's go somewhere quiet," and he pulled her toward the portrait. As they exited, Lavender stumbled over the step and landed squarely in his arms. Ron laughed as he righted her, and then they both ran hand in hand for the door of the nearest unlocked classroom, which they entered without thinking anyone else might have preceded them.

But someone _had_ gotten there first. Some_ones_, in fact, who were the very people Ron had been trying to avoid.

Ron gawked at Harry and Hermione, who were gawking right back. Harry was standing nearer to the door, while Hermione sat upon the teacher's desk, a flock of transfigured canaries swirling around her head like a halo from Hell.

"Oh," was the only thing he could say, astute enough to see that no greeting in the world was appropriate for this meeting. He felt his heartbeat arrest itself for a full five seconds. It was Hermione's expression that had stopped it. She looked like she was in agony, like he had just sucked out her soul. Ron couldn't look at her any longer. It hurt his vanity to see she was capable of displaying such unabashed pain when he had always told himself that she was incapable of any frailty. It hurt his heart and chest and lungs too. He couldn't feel anything but shame and hung his head low. Lavender abandoned him.

At last it occurred to Ron as he stood there feeling ridiculous, that he _was_ capable of hurting Hermione. It was possible that he had hurt her more than she had hurt him by kissing Krum. Worst of all, he knew that she could only be so hurt if she cared for him as someone more than a friend. Only he hadn't seen fit to recognize her overtures because he hadn't been able to believe her sincere. Knowing this, Ron didn't know what to do or how he could explain himself.

But for all that, Ron still did not entirely feel that he _had_ to explain himself. He had done nothing wrong! How could Hermione expect him to stay faithful to a dream when all she did was spout insults, and when there was a girl just around the corner, who adored him? Lavender was one of a kind. …She was really something else! She was…well…she was… She was just what the doctor ordered, and he didn't have to explain that to anyone!

Ron decided he wouldn't acknowledge Hermione. He wouldn't acknowledge Lavender either. He would just try to wriggle out of this mess as quickly as possible.

"Hi, Harry!" he attempted. "Wondered where you'd gone to!" Harry's expression was unreadable, but he did not lend his hand in extracting Ron from this debacle. He might even have been shaking his head.

Just then, Ron heard Hermione's shoes click on the floor, meaning she'd gotten off the desk. He risked a glance at her and saw that she still had those silly birds twittering around her head. And he _knew_—because he knew Hermione—that she was going to send those birds to peck out his eyes.

Instead, all she said as she passed him was, "You shouldn't leave Lavender waiting outside. She'll wonder where you've gone."

Fair enough, thought Ron, still waiting for her attack. He felt confused when it didn't come and looked at Harry to see what his take on the whole situation was.

Then Hermione struck. "_Oppugno__!"_ she shrieked, dispatching her birds in V formation to twitter around his head and peck at exposed flesh wherever they could find it.

"Gerremoffme!" Ron waved them away, missing Hermione's exit. She was soon replaced by Lavender, who came running in as Harry was performing the counter curse.

"Oh, my poor Ron," she cooed, kissing the scratches on his head and hands. Ron couldn't help but think her kisses were very unpleasant, seeing as every time she touched him, his scratches stung. He thought about going after Hermione, but the more Lavender kissed him, the more Ron realized he had nothing to say.

-----


	4. Being Won Won

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters/situations. Lots of the dialogue is J.K. Rowling's, and I feel kind of bad about that.

To a few of my readers:

**Leaviel**: I changed the wording of the "sunlight" thing.

**Love that Elf**: I kind of don't understand the long hair, but it does look nice on Ron, doesn't it? I went to the forums of and someone has this absolutely gorgeous icon of Rupert Grint with long hair. He looks extremely cute.

Author's Notes: Does anyone feel bad for Lavender? I kind of feel bad for Lavender...

* * *

Being Won-Won + 

by Jen Ann Bradley

-----

Days passed into weeks and Hermione still refused to speak to Ron. Although, to be fair, Ron had not tried very hard to win her back. He was sorry about the way things had turned out, but remained mostly unrepentant. Things were they way they were, and Ron felt that Hermione had no right to complain about them. After all, he'd never promised her a thing. They hadn't been going out before he'd snogged Lavender. And it's not like Hermione hadn't ever snogged anyone else before.

Ron told as much to Harry one evening after Hermione had failed to surface for one of their prefects rounds. And when Hermione did not appear on the following evening, Ron repeated his argument again. Harry never said a word in reply, and Ron got the impression that his friend didn't quite buy his side of the matter. Only Lavender was willing to listen to his censure of Hermione.

"She's so cold all the time," he told Lavender as they were cuddling on the armchair closest to the common room's fireplace. They were in the middle of a heavy snog session.

"Who?" she asked.

"Hermione," he said. "You can't even tell a joke when she's around. And she's always bossing me around, telling me what to do. She thinks she's better than me."

Lavender nodded sympathetically, stroking his head with her manicured nails. "I sensed that from first year," she said. "I thought it would get very tiresome after a while."

"Yeah," said Ron, not feeling as convinced about Hermione's bad qualities when Lavender was enumerating them. "Yeah, it is."

Lavender leaned in for another kiss, but Ron had more to rant about. "I mean, she doesn't _really_ think she's better than me, but she always has to talk like she is. She always has to tell me to do my homework or pay attention. Don't do this, don't do that. Harry never does that."

Lavender sighed, patiently. "Oh, I would never do that. Your life is your life, after all."

Ron's heart constricted just thinking about Hermione, even though he was imagining that she was bossing him around. He didn't want to admit it to himself that he missed her. He couldn't say convincingly anymore that he was angry with her about Krum. What he felt now was more like hurt that she wouldn't speak to him.

"Ron?" asked Lavender, poking him. "Ron?"

Lavender brought him out of his troubled thoughts. For this, Ron rewarded his girlfriend with a smile and kept right on talking. "Why can't she just admit she's wrong once in a while? A little tenderness is all I'm asking for. We're friends, aren't we? She never bosses Harry like she bosses me."

As the words were leaving his mouth, Ron realized they were false. He could think of a hundred instances where Hermione bossed Harry around just as much as she bossed Ron. Hermione bossed everybody, noted Ron bitterly; although, she could be kind as well. Ron was currently experiencing how horrific classes could be now that Hermione had withdrawn her tutelage.

A silence fell between Lavender and him, of which Lavender took advantage by trying to draw him into another public snog. As usually happened when Lavender tried this, Harry and Hermione chose that moment to walk in through the portrait. Immediately, Ron jerked his head away from Lavender.

Hermione didn't see them at first because she was telling Harry something about "asking someone," which meant she was talking about one of Slughorn's stupid parties. Feeling irritated, Ron burrowed tighter into Lavender's body and waited to be noticed. But when he was, it was without any satisfaction whatsoever that he watched Hermione flee to the safety of the girls' dormitory.

Harry said a few words before fleeing himself. Once Harry had gone, Ron felt Lavender kissing his neck. Eventually, he gave in and lowered his head so he could kiss her lips, but no matter how pleasant it felt, his heart wasn't in it. His heart had run up the stairs to the girl's dormitory.

"You're such a good kisser, Won-Won," purred Lavender when he broke away.

Ron wasn't sure what to make of this odd nickname embedded into the nicest compliment anyone had ever given him, but he let it go unquestioned, all the while hoping this leniency would not be the biggest mistake of his young life.

-----

As it turned out, allowing Lavender to call him 'Won-Won' was not the biggest mistake of his young life. No, Ron realized as he sat at the dinner table the night of Slughorn's party; his biggest mistake was not telling Hermione what an imperious, bossy, self-righteous _cow_ she was. Going out with Cormac McLaggen! Women really were as fickle as the misogynists said.

Ron shoveled his stew into his mouth and chewed like he was trying to squeeze it into water. Truly he had no appetite. After weeks of feeling semi-content with Lavender, he was right back where he started in Fourth Year when he'd first begun to have nightmares about Hermione kissing boys that were not him.

_"I like really good Quidditch players,"_ he mocked her in his head. "_I can't have Ron, so I'll have Cormac McLaggen. He's not even on the team and he didn't save all those goals **without **the Felix Felicis, but I like him better because I'm trying to make Ron jealous. Look at me, I have twenty million O.W.L.S. And my eyes are really pretty, so there!"_

"Won-Won, why the sour puss face?" asked Lavender beside him.

He shrugged her off with a sheepish grin, but when she'd gone back to gossiping with Parvati, Ron let the smile melt from his face. _Hermione was going out with McLaggen._ She was probably only doing it to make him jealous, but then again maybe she did like McLaggen. Or maybe she would force herself to like McLaggen. Ron ached with a tangible misery as he wondered whether he had missed his chance with Hermione entirely. He wanted to crawl into a ditch and never return, and all the Lavenders in the world could not help him now.

It was funny how the more he tried to hate Hermione, the more he found to love about her; whereas the more he tried to like Lavender, the less appealing she became. The perfume he had once found so appealing now made him want to run whenever he smelled it from around the corner. Her exotic eyes now appeared to him exactly as they were: peevish little ovals with layers and layers of thick black liner circling them and gooping into the corners.

Ron missed Hermione's gentle touch on his arm whenever she congratulated him on getting the right answer in class. It wasn't often that it happened, but he missed it.

Ron missed her smile first thing in the morning and their ritual of passing the pumpkin juice pitcher so he could pour it while she buttered her toast.

He missed her telling him to do his homework. He'd forgotten to finish his essay for Charms because he'd been up too late with Lavender.

He missed the way she complimented him and Harry in a conversation.

He missed how she came out to greet them after a Quidditch match, ecstatic that they'd won even though she didn't understand the sport and had no idea the strategy involved.

He missed her saying his name. He missed her saying hello. He missed her sitting beside him not saying anything. He missed her sitting beside him and talking till his ears dropped off…

As Ron pictured the days to come—in which Lavender called him Won-Won and Cormac McLaggen savaged Hermione behind tapestries (and Hermione would be savaged if any of the rumors about Cormac McLaggen were true)—Ron realized that in no plausible future, where all of this was true, were Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger friends. It suddenly hit him that Hermione wasn't going to apologize. Hermione was never going achieve some miraculous revelation and come running back to him. She wasn't even going to meet him half way. What Ron was beginning to understand was that it was he, who must act first if something were to change. If Ron wanted Hermione, _he_ would have to go to _her_.

It was then that he knew he and Lavender were finished. Ron looked at her and Parvati, gossiping away about Hermione, and swore that he would never gossip about Hermione again. If only he could figure out a nice way to ditch Lavender, Ron Weasley would once again become a free agent. Determination seized him, and Ron abruptly stood from the table. "I'm going to go back to the Tower," he said, inspired by his newfound freedom. "I'm getting tired."

Just as he was about to depart, however, Lavender grabbed him by the arm and said, "Will you give me another minute, Sweetie? I haven't quite finished my pudding." Then she looked at him so sincerely that Ron thought her eyelids would fall off from batting too hard.

Ron recoiled, but for lack of knowing how to escape, gave her a pathetic, "Ok." Without knowing what had happened, he found him sitting down. He wasn't exactly sure why he had obeyed, but Ron had a nagging suspicion that if he left Lavender with Parvati they would start making up all sorts of gossip about him and spread it around the table like the pox.

When they retired to the Tower, Lavender latched onto Ron's arm. Ron carefully extricated himself from her grasp, and was shocked when this caused Lavender to cry.

"What's wrong, Won-Won?" she asked.

"Er…" he muttered, unsure whether to begin with "Won-Won" or her eye goop. He opted not to speak at all. From that moment on Ron began to worry that if Lavender ever sensed that he would rather be elsewhere than with her, she would break into tears. In order to break free, Ron would have to bide his time, pick the perfect moment. _Then_ he would ditch Lavender.

-----

Ditching Lavender was no easier in the morning than it had been the night before. The 'perfect moment' Ron wanted so desperately never arrived. Worse, as the holiday loomed near, Lavender became clingier than ever, something Ron hadn't realized was possible. She insisted on savoring their every moment together so she could embed it in her memory and "dream about Won-Won every single night of the month until his Lavender can come back and snog him senseless in person."

"Oh," he'd said in reply to that particular comment. "That's very nice of you."

Then she'd grabbed his face in her hands and smothered it with kisses. Ron would be willing to admit that the attention wasn't _always_ horrible, but he did feel it was getting to the breaking point. If he didn't break it off soon, Ron was sure he'd hear an ultimatum as Lavender forced him to choose between her and Harry.

Ron sensed that Harry too had grown wary of Lavender, avoiding Ron whenever she was nearby. However, he couldn't be certain. Lavender was very demanding, after all, and it might be that Harry wasn't avoiding him at all. It might be that Lavender was hogging Ron so much that _he_ was the one actually avoiding his friend.

Ron's suspicions were confirmed the morning of his and Harry's departure from Hogwarts for the Christmas holiday. Ron had given Lavender a chaste peck on the check and promised to write before starting off toward Harry, who was talking to Hermione. He was anxious to leave without creating a scene in front of the teachers overseeing the holiday exodus, but most importantly he wanted to say something kind to Hermione. Maybe wish her a Happy Christmas before she left.

He didn't get within ten feet before Lavender caught up to him.

"Oh Ron!" she cried, burying her face in his shirt. All Ron could think was, _at least she didn't say Won-Won_. Lavender stood up on her toes to kiss him. She couldn't quite reach, and was just sort of balancing there like a poodle begging for food, so that Ron decided it would be too silly not to lean down like he was obviously supposed to do. It would be a really cruel thing to do before the holiday if he just stomped off and left her on her tip toes, flopping for something to support her.

One more kiss for old times' sake, he told himself, and then he would definitely ditch her after the holiday.

So he complied, reluctantly allowing Lavender to hold him down like a wrestler for several minutes. When Ron resurfaced, he saw Harry tapping his foot and pretending to look at the time. Hermione was no where to be seen.

Ron realized he'd missed his chance to patch things up with Hermione before the holidays. In fact, he had made matters worse by kissing Lavender right in front of her. Silently, he cursed, wondering why it was so much easier to be polite to the girl he snogged than it was to be polite to the girl he loved…er…fancied.

-----

The holidays proved uneventful. No one they knew died, Ginny didn't murder Fleur, and Lupin seemed well apart from his characteristic melancholy. Fred and George's business was still doing excellently, and best of all, Harry didn't receive any presents from the Dursleys.

The most distressing news came in the form of the usual Hogwarts intrigue. Before the holiday, Harry had apparently overheard a conversation between Snape and Malfoy about an Unbreakable Vow and a mysterious plot. This development worried Ron more than he let on; but he was worried less about Snape and more about Harry, whose hero complex had unfortunately outlived Sirius.

Ron thought that Harry had picked up a great deal more patience from the tragedy, but he knew that wouldn't stop Harry from running off the moment he spied a new crusade against the Dark Lord. And since Ron knew he would be joining Harry on whatever mission Harry undertook, he sincerely hoped his friend would not do anything dangerous this year. Ron preferred not to have another encounter with mortal peril if he could possibly help it. Then again, thinking about mortal peril was a refreshing change from moping about girls. Ron liked not thinking about girls so much that he decided he might make it a hobby.

It was pleasant simply to enjoy the company of his family. One evening Harry, Ginny and Ron used Kreacher's maggots to go ice fishing by the pond. Fred and George joined them, which resulted in a maggot-throwing war. Afterwards, Ron watched Ginny pick the maggots off of Harry's clothes and wondered whether something might be going on between them. However, this was headed toward the world of romance, and Ron was determined to avoid _that_ for the remainder of the holiday.

He didn't even extend his thoughts to Hermione more than twice or possibly ten times; although when he did remember her, his feelings were still keen and strong. Lavender, on the other hand, was all but forgotten apart from her hideous necklace. Ron had been about to chuck it in the rubbish bin when Harry reminded him that Lavender might require him to wear it. Ron had grimaced. However, after finding out that Hermione was not going out with McLaggen, Ron was in such a good mood that who was to say he wouldn't have worn a similar piece of jewelry if Hermione were the one to send it?

-----

The end of the holidays meant Ron would have to enact his plan to ditch Lavender in earnest. However, just as before the holiday, Ron still had difficultly finding "the perfect moment" in which to do it. Lavender often talked so much that he couldn't get a word in edgewise. When she was quiet, she usually looked so vulnerable that it would have been too brutal on her to break it off then. However, there were also times when the perfect moment might have arrived had Ron not been thinking that he could tolerate Lavender for a few more months. These times occurred once in a while when Lavender was being silent, but more often than not on days when Ron had seen and been ignored by Hermione.

However, Ron did manage to cut back on their snog sessions so that they only occurred whenever Lavender tackled him in a place where he couldn't escape from her. By mid January, however, it was becoming easier and easier to concoct excuses not to snog. By the end of the month, Ron had a stroke of genius and told Lavender he'd come down with a contagious disease, which got him out of kissing her for a full week.

Once in a while, Ron attempted to woo Hermione back into their former friendship, but with no success whatsoever. He seemed to be in limbo. His attempts to win her back were as half-hearted as his attempts to officially ditch Lavender. He badly wanted to reach both objectives, but they were inexorably bound together. In order to accomplish one, it seemed he would have to accomplish the other; and Ron didn't know where to begin.

First of all, whenever he tried to approach Hermione, Lavender popped out of nowhere like one of those Muggle jack-in-the-box thingums. For example, Lavender had jumped him when he'd first arrived back at Hogwarts, so he missed Hermione greeting Harry. She'd jumped him again before he'd signed up for Apparition lessons beside Hermione. She jumped him every night before he went down to dinner, which caused Hermione to sit as far from him as possible.

Second, if Ron tried to talk to Lavender about maybe not seeing each other anymore, Hermione would inevitably appear and stomp off, destroying his resolve.

Ron had thought about disappearing from Gryffindor until Lavender forgot about him, but he didn't think that Harry wouldn't allow him to borrow his Invisibility Cloak. Instead, Ron had to find his own ways of getting away from Lavender. He was getting quite deft at it. To his surprise, all he had to say was, "I'll catch you later," or "I'm going to go talk to Harry." Even so, Ron was certain Lavender was beginning to notice that he was avoiding her. She'd asked several times whether or not he was wearing her "My Sweetheart" necklace, and had once broken into tears when he answered "no."

His avoidance only made her more persistent, which led Ron to see that he might have to say something unpleasant to her in the near future. This made him uncomfortable. It wasn't that he didn't like Lavender; it was simply that he didn't like her _enough_.

Ron used his prefect duties as a frequent excuse to extricate himself from her clutches during the evenings, but this meant that he often ended up doing two rounds more than what was required so Lavender would give up on him and go to bed. Hermione never surfaced during these rounds, and Ron was unsure of whether she was shirking her duties (unlikely) or doing a spectacular job of avoiding him (almost certain).

Hermione was so good at avoiding him that Ron considered asking her for lessons on how to avoid Lavender, but unfortunately Hermione was too difficult to find. Thus it was a perfect surprise when one day after Potions Ron stepped outside of class to discover that he was alone in the hall with Hermione. She was not paying attention, which explained how he had ended up alone with her in the hall, but was mumbling something under her breath that sounded like, "Bezoar…any idiot…stupid book."

"Hi, Hermione," he said, interrupting her.

Startled, Hermione's head shot up. For half a second her eyes were void of malice, but once she processed who had addressed her, her mouth turned up into a smirk.

"Hey, Won-Won, lost your pet poodle?" she chortled, pretending to search the corridor for Lavender. The iciness of the encounter reminded Ron of his many skirmishes with Malfoy, but this time Ron let the abuse roll off his back with a shrug.

"Listen, Hermione, can't you come off it?" he said, extending the metaphorical olive branch.

Hermione took his branch and stomped on it. In fact, after witnessing the fury radiating off her entire being, Ron might have said she was trying to chop down the whole olive tree. Hermione shook her head and emitted a disbelieving scoff. "Come off it? _Me?_" she said. "Grow up, Ronald Weasley!"

Ron watched her storm down the corridor, crestfallen. He didn't know what he could say to make her like him again.

-----

February was a dreary affair, full of essay writing and endless assigned reading. Ron and Harry may not have needed to worry over their O.W.L.S this year, but Snape and McGonagall provided double the pressure. Both professors were twice as sadistic as before with the length of their assignments, which meant that their pupils spent much of their days in study. To Ron's chagrin, Harry had developed ambition over the summer and was beginning to pour over his books almost as much as Hermione. Ron saw less and less of his friend. In addition, Harry preferred to study in quiet, without the distraction of people snogging nearby, meaning he generally avoided Ron and Lavender in favor of studying with Hermione during the evenings.

Apparition lessons began, and none too soon. Ron was looking forward to a summer of freedom to go wherever he chose, without having to worry about dirty Floo Powder or broom maintenance. No one had any success during the first lesson. A few people wound up flat on their backs and Susan Bones temporarily lost her leg. Ron swore that he had felt the spell flowing through him at least once when his feet had started tingling. He was so certain of himself that even Hermione's suggestion that he'd put his trainers on wrong didn't bother him. And, he noted with some satisfaction, that despite Hermione's ridicule, she hadn't been successful Apparating either.

By the end of the month, Ron was feeling claustrophobic within the castle. He eagerly awaited the forthcoming trip to Hogsmeade, which fell on his birthday. However, before the event could take place, Ron learned that the trip had been cancelled. The news was met with shared antagonism from all four houses, but to Ron especially it was a kick in the pants. It seemed all that was left to look forward to on his birthday was quality time with Lavender and one more botched Apparition lesson.

Fortunately, he was not disappointed in his presents. On the morning of his birthday, Ron awoke to find that the house elves had piled his gifts at the foot of his bed. Most of it was candy, but there were also more substantial treasures. Among them were new Keeper gloves, courtesy of Harry, to replace his old ones from which the traction was rubbing off. Even nicer was a gold pocket watch from his parents, specially wrapped by his mother in sentimental, flowery paper that smelled so much like the Burrow that for a moment Ron felt homesick.

He showed the watch off to a preoccupied Harry, who was busy fiddling with the Mauraders' Map. Harry looked up to give his word of approval and then looked down again.

Not offended, Ron replaced the watch in its box and on the floor so he could reach for another present. In doing so, he saw that a box of unopened Chocolate Cauldrons had fallen from his bed. Ron swept it up in one hand, checking it for a card. He shrugged when he couldn't find one, figuring they were from Harry, or that perhaps Hermione had sent him an anonymous gift out of guilt. He opened the box hastily and shoved one of the candies into his mouth.

"Want one?" he held the box out to Harry, who barely looked up long enough to spare a, "No thanks."

Ron stuffed a second Cauldron into his mouth before getting out of bed and pulling his clothes on. He clucked his tongue at the sight of Harry pouring over that map in search of Malfoy. _Obsessed_, he was. "Come on," Ron urged Harry, "if you don't hurry up, you'll have to Apparate on an empty stomach…."

As he pulled on his trousers, Ron's stomach gurgled oddly. "Might make it easier, I suppose…" he trailed off. He was beginning to feel lightheaded, but that was probably from hunger. Ron decided he needed a third Cauldron so he could make it to the breakfast table.

When his stomach growled again, Ron was suddenly overwhelmed by the strangest sensation. It was like he was lying under an oppressive weight that could never be removed. He felt hopeless and depressed. Ron was certain the world was going to end for him that very day unless he spoke to…_Romilda__ Vane_.

Wasn't it odd how people could pass each other daily in the hall and never notice one another, and then suddenly _see_ them one day when they weren't even in the room? Ron knew that was exactly what had happened as he thought of Romilda. He had never noticed her until now, but after eating that Cauldron, it dawned on him at last how beautiful her eyes were. Ron was almost fairly certain that her eyes were exactly the same shade as the Chocolate Cauldrons. It was possible he was mistaken, but even so, it wasn't as if he didn't know what she looked like. Ron knew that the white part of her eye was exactly the same shade as vanilla flavored Bertie Bott's Bean.

He had waited his whole life to meet a girl who reminded him of candy, and Romilda Vane was the sweetest thing he'd ever not really noticed. He could stare out the window for eternity, just pondering what she looked like from close up.

"Ron?" called Harry from the world of reality. "Breakfast?"

"I'm not hungry," said Ron as he tried to figure out which part of Romilda looked like a Fizzing Whizbee. He wondered if Harry would know. Ron thought about asking him, but doubted that Harry would understand. Harry hadn't ever been in love. The closest he'd ever come was Cho Chang, and Ron was sure that Cho Chang didn't remind anybody of Chocolate.

"I thought you just said — ?"

Ron reconsidered when he realized that Romilda would probably be at breakfast.

"Well, all right, I'll come down with you, but I don't want to eat."

"You've just eaten half a box of Chocolate Cauldrons, haven't you?"

Yes, he had eaten three beautiful Chocolate Cauldrons, and each and every one reminded him of Romilda. Romilda... Romilda. It rhymed with Vroomhilda and Matilda, all beautiful names that rolled off the tongue like Canary Creams only without the unpleasant aviary aftereffect. Ron never wanted to eat real food again, only sweets.

"It's not that," Ron sighed. "You…you wouldn't understand."

"Fair enough."

Ron watched Harry open the door and panicked. _Someone_ had to know about these feelings he was having, these precious, terrible feelings! "Harry!"

"What?" asked Harry, seeming impatient.

"Harry, I can't stand it!" Ron cried, letting it all go in a rush. He didn't stop to hear Harry's reply. "I can't stop thinking about her!"

"Why does that stop you having breakfast?"

Ron dreaded approaching any table where Romilda was surrounded by all her friends. What if they made fun of him? Would he ever be able to eat chocolate again? What if Lavender showed up and harassed her? Oh, he couldn't bear it if Lavender spread nasty rumors about Romilda. Or what if Romilda heard the rumors about how she was going out with Ron Weasley and realized she hadn't the faintest idea who Ron Weasley was?

"I don't think she knows I exist."

Harry started talking about Lavender, and Ron almost vomited. All he wanted to think about was… "Romilda Vane. I think…Harry, I think I love her."

"okay…Say that again with a straight face," said Harry.

Ron complied without delay, "I love her. Have you seen her hair, it's all black and shiny and silky…" Just like licorice, thought Ron. "…and her eyes? Her big dark eyes? And her —" Just like chocolate. Her whole body smelled like chocolate…

"This is really funny and everything," said Harry, "but the joke's over, all right? Drop it."

Harry's insensitivity shocked him. Ron had just opened up his heart to him only to have Harry mock his dearest desire. Flying on instinct, Ron darted forward and struck Harry on the ear. Harry recoiled in outrage, pulling out his wand and shouting, "_Levicorpus__!"_

Ron found himself dangling in the air as Harry glared at him, wand at the ready. Ron thrashed around, still trying to reach Harry.

"You insulted her, Harry! You said it was a joke!"

"This is insane!" Harry cried. Ron kept struggling.

Then, for some odd reason, Harry began to question him about the Cauldrons.

"They were a birthday present!" shouted Ron. "I offered you one, didn't I?"

"You just picked them up off the floor, didn't you?"

The blood was beginning to rush to Ron's head, making him sick. "They'd fallen off my bed, all right? Let me go!" he demanded, renewing his attempts to escape. He ignored Harry as he flopped about mid-air, until he heard the name _Romilda_.

"Romilda? Did you say Romilda? Harry — do you know her? Can you introduce me?"

Ron heartily forgave Harry for his earlier transgression when five minutes later they were marching out the Tower on their quest to find Romilda. To Ron's great joy, Harry had agreed to play matchmaker, which meant Ron was certain to win Romilda's heart. Ron had observed in the past that girls generally were willing to do whatever Harry wanted them to do, which meant Romilda would go out with Ron if Harry made her!

On the way out, they ran into Lavender, but Ron no longer had anything to say to her. He and Harry both left the Tower, barely sparing an explanation for their departure. Ron and Harry continued on without her, but not in the direction of The Great Hall. It appeared that Romilda was not at breakfast, but was studying in Slughorn's office. Upon hearing this, Ron loved her more. He had always admired studious women.

After they reached Slughorn's office, Ron was dismayed to be told that Romilda had not yet arrived. He looked for her anyway, standing on tip toe to see past Slughorn's massive frame. He looked to each side of Slughorn's thick head, but saw no one. Ron wondered if this was another one of those Slug parties to which he was not invited. Judging from Slughorn's state of undress, it looked like a slumber party. Horrified at the idea of Romilda sleeping anywhere near Slughorn, Ron burst through the door and into the study. Unfortunately, he tripped on his way in.

Ron wondered if Romilda would laugh at him like Hermione usually did when he did something stupid. The idea of Romilda mocking him like Hermione was extremely unpleasant. "She didn't see that, did she?"

"She's not here yet," said Harry.

Ron sighed with relief. "That's good. How do I look?"

"Very handsome," said Slughorn, offering him a glass of water. Ron was told it was a nerve tonic to make him more debonair.

"Brilliant!" he exclaimed, drinking it in three gulps. It tasted a bit salty, but was otherwise palatable. Ron waited for it to take effect.

Ron gagged when it did.

Within seconds, the obsessive euphoria of being in love with Romilda Vane dissipated, leaving the reality of being in love with Hermione, which was an experience similar to being awakened from a dream only to be dropped into the ocean, chained to a bag of gold.

Ron was horrified by his own behavior. Had he really punched Harry? What else would he have done had Harry not brought him to Slughorn? Images of him, begging Romilda to speak to him, kissing the floor where her feet had tread came to mind. And as if this were not punishment enough, Ron also felt nauseous from the after effects of the love potion.

Ron didn't even want to think of what Lavender would say when this got around to her. Then, with a groan, Ron remembered that he had already run into Lavender. He had managed to avoid her successfully for days, but now he would have to find her and explain the situation so she wouldn't spread it around Gryffindor Tower that he was in love with Romilda Vane. Ron couldn't let Hermione hear that. Not ever. _Because he loved her…_

At the moment when Ron was picturing himself worshipping his shrine to Romilda—full of Chocolate Cauldrons and stolen articles of her clothing—as Hermione gave up on him and married McLaggen, Slughorn slapped a glass of meade in front of him and wished him Happy Birthday. Ron took the glass before Slughorn had quite finished his salutations, feeling more grateful to his teacher than he could have ever thought possible. He guzzled it down without thinking, only wishing it might cut his confusion and embarrassment in half.

Instead, he felt like the meade was cutting him from the inside out. What felt like shards of ice stabbed him in his gut. Ron tried to wretch, but he couldn't control his muscles. His legs jerked like they were being yanked by strings. His lungs burned from the inside out, and the air tasted like acid.

It was too swift to be torture. Soon, the room had retreated from Ron, leaving him in a white world of splotches and green lines, where Harry's voice seemed very far away.


	5. In the Infirmary

Author's Notes: This chapter was very difficult to write. I rewrote it about four times before I got anywhere close to being happy with it. I'm beginning to veer a little from the book into a world where one can only interpret and guess. The first draft had Hermione and Ron falling over each other like fanfiction clichés. The second draft just had Hermione kissing Ron on the hand. The third draft just had Hermione talking, and well, you'll see what's in this.

If you would like another take on the infirmary scene, go to vellagirl's fic entitled Hermione's Visit. I thought that was also a very plausible take on what happened, and it's very different from mine.

Responses to my readers come after the chapter.

-----

In the Infirmary +

by Jen Ann Bradley

-----

Ron was dreaming that he was in Potions class trying to answer a question that Snape had posed, but whenever he tried to speak all he could say was, "Lavender stole my tie." He implored his friends to help him, but Harry had turned into a duck, and Hermione wouldn't meet his eye. "Lavender stole my tie," he begged.

"Honestly, Ron," she said.

"Lavender stole my tie!"

He sat bolt up in his bed, gasping for breath. To his surprise, he discovered Hermione sitting at his bedside, wearing a pensive expression. For some strange reason she was dressed in formalwear, but Ron decided it was best not to mention it. He smiled at her.

"Hermione?" he whispered.

She stared back, sweetly and reached for his hand. However, just as she was about to take it, Ron croaked, "Lavender stole my tie."

Ron gasped and awoke, only this time for real. He felt disoriented and sick to his stomach. His head throbbed so hard that he groaned.

"He's awake!" cried someone who wasn't Hermione.

A red-headed boy, who looked exactly like his brother, leaned over him, peering into his bleary eyes. "Welcome back, Ron," said Fred with a grin. "We were wondering when you'd decide to wake up."

George appeared next, saying, "You had us all very worried. It was a lucky thing Harry was there to save you."

Though he felt weak, Ron managed to sit up a bit and look around at the familiar trappings of the infirmary. Fred, George and Ginny were grouped around him, the latter of whom seemed sullen and upset.

"You're lucky _I _was here," she said by way of a greeting. "Fred was planning to Polyjuice himself into Romilda Vane and tell you that you'd gotten married when you woke up."

Ron blushed. "Harry mentioned that, eh?"

"He kind of had to in order to explain why you were at Slughorn's office drinking poison," said George. Fred, who was probably still mourning the lost opportunity for a good prank, let out a sigh.

"Poison!" exclaimed Ron. "Blimey, is that why I'm here?" Then he realized that his brothers hadn't been back to Hogwarts since the previous year. "Is that why you're here?"

Ginny sniffed. "You gave us quite a scare. Mum and Dad were here earlier, but they had to leave on Order business. And Hermione was here too—"

Ron remembered his dream and hoped he hadn't mumbled anything about Lavender and ties in his sleep. Otherwise, the news that Hermione had come to see him did wonders in curing his headache. "She cared enough to stop in, then?" he asked, poking around for information as casually as possible.

Ginny seemed thoughtful when she nodded. "Hermione's been by more than we have, actually. She was really upset. I think…well, you should say something nice to her when she drops by next."

"I've been nice to her since the beginning of term!" cried Ron, reflexively. "She's the one who's been ignoring me!"

"Yes, well, you should try extra hard —" said Ginny, ignoring his outburst. She stared at him matter-of-factly, daring him to argue. Ron pictured all the instances when he'd tried to initiate contact with Hermione only to be rebuffed, and thought about listing them all for Ginny. However, Ron knew that she would refuse to take his part no matter what, and so it would be wiser to save his breath. He folded his arms over his chest with a frown.

"So what's this about poison?" he asked, changing the subject.

Ginny related the story that Harry had told her while the twins chuckled at the parts about Romilda Vane.

"I remember that part," said Ron, sharply. "I'd rather not go through it again, if you don't mind."

"And then Harry stuffed a bezoar down your mouth," finished Ginny a few minutes later. "He told me that he got the idea from his Potions book."

"That Prince was brilliant," marveled Ron. "Saved me life."

Ginny just looked confused.

A few more minutes passed by before Madam Pomfrey appeared in the doorway, holding a few herbs that she must have gathered from Professor Sprout's greenhouse. She spied Ron sitting up in bed and rushed over.

"He's awake, Madam Pomfrey," said Ginny.

"That much is apparent, Miss Weasley," she said, setting down her supplies and coming over to feel Ron's forehead. "Still feverish," she said. "He needs food and rest. Everyone out!"

"But I've been sleeping for days," Ron protested.

"And you'll be sleeping for the rest of this one, once you've eaten. Out! Everyone out!"

Ron ate a pitiful dinner of porridge and broth, but Madam Pomfrey was right. He fell asleep easily after eating and didn't wake up again until morning.

When next he awoke, he was given another bowl of porridge, but his broth was upgraded to sausage. Ron ate them both greedily as his stomach had finally recognized the hunger that had been mounting all week while he lay unconscious. He was stuffing the last bit of sausage into his mouth and was chewing when Madam Pomfrey appeared at his bed. Ron instinctively clutched his half-empty bowl of porridge, afraid she was here to snatch his food away before he had finished it. But Madam Pomfrey did no such thing. Instead she smiled, saying, "You have a visitor, Mr. Weasley," and she stepped aside to reveal Hermione Granger.

Ron swallowed his food with a loud gulp.

This was the first time he and Hermione had been alone together in months. He wished it had not taken a near-death experience to bring them together again, but he was pleased to see her nonetheless. However, she looked so nervous and pale that Ron wondered whether she had better not submit to Madam Pomfrey's care as well. She shuffled from one foot to another in a very un-Hermione-like way, and she was fidgeting with something behind her back.

"Hi," he said, breaking the silence. "I er…woke up,"

Hermione seemed relieved that he had spoken, managing a small smile. _Why was she smiling?_ he wondered, hoping she was not smiling because he had just said the stupidest thing on the planet. He felt a little more confident when he saw that she was blushing. Then, suddenly, Hermione brought her arms out from around her back to reveal three scrolls of parchment clutched in her hands. Ron almost yelped for joy when he realized what they were.

"I brought you a birthday present," she said. "I couldn't buy anything nicer because the Hogsmeade trip was cancelled, but I wrote your essays for Charms and Transfiguration. I even charmed them so it would look like your handwriting. Oh, and I outlined the essay for DADA, but Snape would know if I wrote the whole thing, so —"

She set them gently on his bed and drew back again, like she was afraid he'd snap off her head if she stayed close. Then she looked around until she found a chair next to his bed.

"Can I sit?" she asked.

Ron smiled. "Please," he replied, quietly, motioning to the chair.

Hermione scooted the chair so she was facing him and sat down, leaning over his bed. Ron observed the dark circles under her eyes and the way she was struggling to speak, and knew it was a time to be silent. Patiently, he waited for her to say whatever it was she had to say, sensing that it was something of enormous importance to her. This was confirmed when, after a moment or so had passed, Ron saw a solitary tear drip down her cheek. She was crying, and even more unbelievable was that she was crying for _him_!

"Hermione," he gasped, instinctively reaching out to touch her hand that rested on his bed. When he realized what he was doing, he drew back again, but as Hermione continued to cry, Ron felt he must try to make her stop. Isn't that what people usually did while watching a person cry? He had no experience with crying girls. Ginny seldom cried, and Hermione always ran away whenever she was about to do it so no one would look at her. For Heaven's sake, she was still going at it. If he hadn't known Hermione better, Ron might have thought she was upset that he had lived. And yet, he found her distress strangely moving. Ron reached out for her hand once again, but before he could reach it, she withdrew her hand quickly in order to wipe her eyes as they watered past the point of control.

"Oh Ron," she broke into an uncontrollable sob. A flurry of speech followed. "I'm sorry! I was so stupid to treat you the way I did. To think that you might have —" she reached into her robes and brought out her wand in order to conjure a handkerchief, which she used to dab furiously at her eyes.

Ron took her by the wrist and lowered her hands away from her face. Hermione gazed up at him, vulnerable and distraught, but she allowed him to watch her cry.

"I was so angry over nothing at all," she continued. "And if you had…if you had _gone_, thinking I hated you…I never would have forgiven myself."

"I never thought you hated me, Hermione," Ron said. However, this statement caused Hermione to burst into a fresh bout of tears, which Ron watched with horror bordering on elation.

"I never knew you cared so much," he exclaimed, almost to himself. He had known Hermione to be furious with him before; Ron could expect her fury. But he had never expected such a display of concern for him. This was something he had only seen her do for Harry.

Hermione didn't appear to notice what he had said, for she seemed too busy attempting to rein in her emotion. She fidgeted with the handkerchief again, breaking the moment. With a little sniff, she dabbed at her nose. "I shouldn't have stopped speaking to you just because of Lavender," said Hermione, under her breath. She seemed to be dragging the words out of her mouth by sheer force of will. "I had no right —"

"I don't care about Lavender," Ron blurted out all of the sudden. He had wanted to say something to make Hermione stop crying, but it was only by sheer luck that he had stumbled upon the one thing he could say that was exactly right.

It worked like a charm. Hermione's eyes widened in shock, but Ron could see that her tears had stopped. However, Ron was not finished, not when finally he had both the opportunity to speak and the impetus to do it. "Lavender's not like you," he blustered on, wanting to get it all out before he lost his nerve. "I mean…she's not you. I mean…" But when Ron saw that he was dangerously close to an admission of love, he became too flustered to go on. He couldn't get the words out of his mouth, for fear of sounding silly and rendering this inexplicable, powerful feeling into something laughable. He wouldn't do it, so Ron could only hope that he had gotten his point across.

He knew that he had when he saw Hermione's lips curve upwards into the beginning of a brilliant smile. Yet, just as the smile had started, it stopped. Hermione sniffed and whispered, "It's okay, Ron, you don't need to say that just to make me happy."

"No, I…" he spluttered, just about to protest when the door to the infirmary swung open and his parents waltzed in.

Ron swore under his breath. Hermione blushed redder than a ruby and wiped at her eyes in order to remove all traces of tears before she was spotted. Suddenly, she took the scrolls that she had brought and hid them under the bed. She seemed to be preparing to leave.

"Where are you going?" he asked, practically begging.

"I don't want them to see me crying," she said. "They'll think something horrible happened."

Ron grimaced. But something wonderful happened, he wanted to say. However, before Ron could convince her to stay, his father approached.

"How are you feeling today, Ron?" he asked, completely oblivious to the scene he had interrupted. "Ah, Hermione! You two catching up?"

"I was just about to leave," she managed, through her choked voice. She stood from the chair, offering it to Ron's mother, and straightened her robes.

"Do you have to go?" asked Ron, miserably.

Hermione looked up, flashing him a smile through a fresh sheen of tears. "I'll come back," she reassured him.

"Nonsense," said his mother, "You can stay if you like. You're practically family anyway." Ron turned red at the words, 'practically family.'

But Hermione, who was about to cry any moment (for joy, Ron hoped), refused and hurried off. Ron watched her go, wishing with all his heart that he could chase after her. Who knows what might happen if he did? But he couldn't go anywhere for another week, so he could only wait until she returned.

-----

By the time his parents left, it was afternoon and Ron was so exhausted that he immediately turned on his side to go to sleep. As he buried his aching head into the pillow, he comforted himself with the thought that when he woke up, Hermione or Harry or Ginny might have come for a visit.

Drifting closer and closer to sleep with each passing second, Ron had journeyed half way towards the world of dreams when all of the sudden he heard a distinct feminine patter creeping up toward him. Instantly, consciousness catapulted itself back onto him.

Thinking that perhaps Hermione had returned, Ron grinned under the sheets he held tucked over his head. He decided that he would let her think he was asleep for a while in order to see what she would do. This time, he hoped for a heartfelt confession of love and undying devotion.

What he got instead was…

"Guess who, Won-Won!"

It was all he could do to stifle a groan of utter agony. Lavender had found him.

He clenched his eyes shut, held his breath and waited for the nightmare to pass. He felt little hands groping at his shoulder. "Oh, you poor dear. You're still unconscious. Well, that's all right, I suppose. Now I can tell you all the things that I'm too afraid to tell you when you're awake!"

_Oh goody_, he thought. He couldn't imagine Lavender being afraid to say anything. She had always seemed to him to be without shame.

"Oh Ron, I was so worried when I'd heard you'd been poisoned."

Her statement, lacking the customary "Won-Won" generated enough pity inside him that Ron considered opening his eyes at this point. Unfortunately, Lavender was not done talking.

"I can't believe no one told me you were here. I had to find out from Cormac McLaggen of all people. I don't know how he found out. He's probably been waiting for something like this to happen so he could play Keeper. Maybe he was the one who put the poison in your meade!"

At this most unpleasant news, Ron began to cough and had to disguise the sound with a snore. Lavender bumbled on without appearing to have noticed.

"I was afraid that Hermione Granger would come begging for you to take her back again," she said. "Parvati told me she was really upset when she'd heard about you, but then I saw her crying in the hall this morning, and I knew that you must have said no. And I forgive you for being so mean to me in the common room, because I know you were just under a love potion…"

_Hermione had still been crying in the hall?_ His heart beat faster at the thought. Ron managed to drown Lavender out for a little while, scowling at the way she talked about Hermione. He supposed it was his fault for encouraging her, but he felt that she ought to have taken his censure of Hermione with a grain of salt. For five and a half years, he and Hermione and Harry had seen each other through everything from exams to near death experiences. She ought to have expected them to make up sooner or later. Now that they had, Ron thought Lavender ought to be more gracious about it.

Meanwhile, Lavender had begun to talk about their future, which nearly gave Ron a heart attack as she explained to them the details of their wedding. "I always thought we could get married in Dover on the tops of the cliffs where it's sooo pretty," she said. "It's much prettier there than where my parents got married in Manchester. Oh, and then we could have lots and lots of babies, all with red hair as nice as yours. And we can name the first one Thomas and the second one Judith or maybe Sybill after Professor Trewlawney because I like her very much…"

As it turned out, Lavender wanted pink dress robes for the bridesmaids, and she was planning to write her own vows, which meant Ron was required to do the same. Their second son was to be Ronald Jr., but under no circumstances was Ron to name any of their children after his father.

"Arthur is such an old fashioned name, don't you think? Of course you do."

And they were going to buy a house on the coast of France after they graduated from Hogwarts. Only Ron decided that they would be buying a house bordering a river in Hell before he'd marry Lavender. Fortunately, when Lavender began talking about their grandchildren, Madam Pomfrey rescued him. Ron wondered if she had seen the twitching of his eyes behind his eyelids or whether she too was sick of hearing Lavender's voice. At any rate, the good woman threw Lavender out on the pretense that visiting hours were over, even though Ron knew that visiting hours were not over for another hour at least.

After Lavender was gone, Madam Pomfrey came by and tapped him on the shoulder. "All right, Mr. Weasley, I think you need another dose of medicine after that."

-----

Harry and Ginny were frequent visitors to the infirmary over the next week, but Hermione did not appear again for two days. Ron wondered at her absence, thinking perhaps he should not have said what he had said about not caring about Lavender. He wasn't certain why that would make Hermione angry, but he supposed it was possible that he had offended her.

However, when she did reappear, Ron understood the reason for her neglect immediately. This time as she entered she was carrying four scrolls.

"How many essays were we assigned?" he exclaimed when she set them on his bed.

"Oh, these are due next month," she said with a smile, giving no indication that composing four essays for someone else had caused her any trouble whatsoever.

"But I'll be out of the infirmary by then," he said, examining the scrolls lying at the foot of his bed. He knew that he could not refuse Hermione since she had exerted so much effort, but he didn't like it that she thought he would appreciate her more as a study aid than as a friend. Ron would have preferred a visit to his homework.

"You don't have to bribe me into liking you again," he explained. "I never stopped."

Hermione frowned, which made Ron wonder what he had said wrong this time. Perhaps he should have just thanked her. But then Hermione sat down in the chair next to him and started chatting about class and the latest gossip as if the last visit and the entire term before it had never happened. Ron was both relieved and disappointed to have things go back to normal. It was good to have Hermione speaking to him again, but he had spent the past few days realizing that didn't want things to be _exactly_ the same as they had always been. He had thought that Hermione wanted the same thing. Hadn't she understood the point of his whole, stuttering declaration during their last conversation? When she started in on Herbology, Ron realized she had definitely not understood. He felt an unspeakable gloom wash over him. Ron didn't know how she could fall back into their old routine so easily. For him, it was especially difficult to think of Hermione as only his friend.

Ron found himself incapable of really listening to what she was saying. All he could do was stare at her. As Hermione was telling him about Susan Bones' latest mishap during Apparition lessons, Ron could not stop himself from wondering what it would be like to kiss her. The prospect of kissing Hermione no longer seemed as frightening as it had a few months previous when he hadn't known where to put his hands or lips. Would her lips be mushy like Lavender's or would they be just right? His eyes wandered to her mouth, where they remained as he delved deeper and deeper into a fantasy where he swooped down and snogged her until they both passed out from lack of air. He could do it. _Just lean forward._

From her seat across from him, Hermione suddenly noticed what was happening and shut up. "Ron?" she asked.

Ron blushed a little, but didn't try to disguise what he had been thinking. It was too late to hide it anyway; he was certain that Hermione had figured it out. However, though she was flustered by his suggestive gaze, Hermione continued with her discourse on Susan Bones. Ron did notice that she seemed more hesitant in her speech.

"Twycross told us she could have splinched herself —"

"Hermione?" he stopped her. "I meant what I said before. You know, about Lavender…"

But sure enough, if you speak of the devil, he will appear.

"Where's my Won-Won!" boomed Lavender's voice from the door.

Ron's eyes bugged out in terror. He hurled himself back onto the pillow and pulled the covers over his head. "Quick, tell her I've been asleep the whole time!"

"B…But," stammered Hermione, but Ron cut her off with a pretend snore.

"Oh Ron," she sighed, exasperated. But she dutifully informed Lavender that he had been sleeping all morning and that he still required a great deal of rest.

"Madam Pomfrey wants us to keep especially quiet around Ron," added Hermione. "He still gets migraines very easily."

"I know how to take care of Ron, thank you," snapped Lavender.

"Oh. I'll leave him in good hands, then," said Hermione, refusing to be anything but civil. Even so, Ron thought he could hear resentment hidden within her voice. He listened to her retreating footsteps and prepared himself for thirty minutes of torture.

To his surprise, Lavender did not say much at all other than, "I hope you get better soon, Won-Won. I miss you." Only she whined too much as she said, "_miss you,_" so she sounded like a Screaming Mandrake, which in turn destroyed all semblance of sincerity.

Nevertheless, Ron felt instantly terrible for ignoring her and for making Hermione lie to her, and most of all for making Hermione _lie_. However, the guilt was not enough to compel Ron to open his eyes. He sensed that underneath her pretensions at worry, Lavender was masking her characteristic self-centeredness whereby she cared for Ron only because she didn't want to go without her trophy boyfriend for another weekend.

When she departed ten minutes later, Ron was not sorry to have her go. His only regret was that Hermione did not come back to finish their conversation. She had probably predicted that Lavender would be with him forever and had wanted to disappear accordingly.

In fact, Ron did not see Hermione again until Saturday evening when she came with Ginny to visit Harry, who had cracked his skull during the earlier Quidditch match.

Both girls entered with a quick hello before moving on to examine Harry.

"He's still unconscious," said Ron, glumly, as he waited for Hermione to stop peeking at Harry's bandages. Ron did not like being ignored.

Hermione looked at him with one eyebrow raised. "Are you sure he's not pretending?"

Ron scowled, even though he knew she was teasing him.

"Don't worry, Ron," said Ginny walking away from Harry's bed toward Ron's. "We didn't forget you."

"In fact," said Hermione, fiddling with something in the pockets of her robes and then pulling the 'something' out with a flourish, "We brought you something."

Ron was pleased to see that it was too small to be homework. Instead, as Hermione came closer, he saw that it was a photograph of a disgustingly corpulent youth, wearing Gryffindor Quidditch robes. The subject of the picture also sported abnormally long toenails that curled out from his feet like bed springs.

"What's this?" he asked, taking it.

Ginny giggled. "That's Cormac McLaggen after the match today. The entire team cornered him in the common room later on, and then Hermione and I got Colin Creevey to take this picture." She pointed to McLaggen's toenails. "Harry taught me that one."

Hermione let out a snort. Ron figured she knew exactly where Harry had gotten that toenail hex.

"So, uh, will you be staying for dinner?"

Ginny shook her head. "I have to go meet Dean," she said without any real enthusiasm.

Hermione pointed to Ginny for some reason. She offered him an apologetic look. "I said that I'd go with her."

"Oh," he replied.

Ginny laughed at his disappointment. "I'm sure Harry will come to in an hour or so, and then he can keep you company. Make sure you show him the picture when he does." Then she paused as her jollity faded. "Harry's been acting a bit strange lately, don't you think? He barely arrived in time for the match."

Hermione sighed. "I bet I know why. He was probably chasing Malfoy again."

Ginny nodded. "He did say something about Malfoy —" Then she shrugged. Ron didn't venture any new information. He wasn't sure how much Harry would want Ginny to hear.

"Oh well. I'm hungry," Ginny said at last, and with a wave good-bye she headed out.

Before following Ginny to the door, Hermione leaned over Ron to whisper in his ear, "Tell Harry not to teach Ginny any more hexes out of that book."

"Okay," said Ron, too distracted by the feeling of her breath puffing against his ear to do anything but agree. However, after she had gone and Ron processed what Hermione had said, suffice it to say he had no intention of telling Harry any such thing.

An hour later, Harry did indeed wake up, and did indeed confess to having followed Malfoy. Ron felt irritated, especially when Harry mentioned that he'd have rather missed the Quidditch match in order to follow him. Harry's obsessions were getting ridiculous.

"Don't be stupid, " Ron said. "You couldn't have missed a Quidditch match just to follow Malfoy, you're the Captain!"

"I want to know what he's up to. And don't tell me it's all in my head, not after what I overheard between him and Snape —"

At this, Ron sat up straighter. "I never said it was all in your head," he said, anxious to defend himself. Ron knew that Harry's instincts were generally close to being correct, but his greatest failing was that he carried his suspicions too far. If he would only be patient, he would discover that all would reveal itself in time. Probably near the end of the term if the pattern continued itself. In the meanwhile, missing Quidditch for Malfoy was inexcusable. Quidditch was one of the only untouched things remaining in the Wizarding World. Everything else: Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade and Hogwarts itself were suffering from wartime tension.

When their conversation lapsed into silence, Ron briefly thought of conveying Hermione's message, but in the end he turned over on his side and went to sleep.

-----

To a few of my readers:

**Er**** My Nee**,** Carly-M **&** DaggerLy**: I really liked that scene from the book too, where Ron mumbles Hermione's name. But the more I thought about it as I was writing this, the more I realized that Ron wouldn't think he said, "Er My Nee." It's his POV, so he would hear "Hermione" very clearly in his dream instead of "Er My Nee." Also, if I followed the timeline from the book, I'd have to write a lot of Ron's dreams because he doesn't wake up immediately after saying it. It seemed too frustrating to bother, especially when it's done so perfectly in the book.

Just **DaggerLy**: Well, the part that shocked me was when Ron said, "I love you, Hermione." I started thinking, "Oh my God, what!" But then it turned out just to be a casual comment.

**Love That Elf**: I don't mind long reviews. I don't mind criticism either as long as it's tactful and intelligent. So if you (or anybody else) ever see a typo or a continuity problem etc. etc., please tell me.

**Animeobsessed**: No, I'm not planning to go beyond Book 6. I'm really not a very fast writer when I'm trying to deal with my own plots, and I don't think I have a good theory about what's going to happen next. I'm sure someone will tackle it soon, though. J

**Satu**** Simpson**: Originally, this was going to be a two chapter work where I had Ron's thoughts in one half and Hermione's in the other, but this is taking too long. So, no, I don't think I'll write Hermione's version of events. I can't get into her head as well as I can Ron's anyway. I think I understand her, though. She seems to me to know that Ron likes her, but she's too inexperienced to know how to get him to admit it. Krum approached her on his own, without any urging from her, and she expects Ron to do that too. She is furious when he doesn't, and probably feels very insulted that he misled her by agreeing to go to the party with her. Hermione, as we know, does not like to be wrong. But after the poison, I feel like Hermione realized that she really liked/loved Ron, and would rather put up with Lavender in order to be with him than not be with him at all.


	6. The Triumph of Hermione Granger

More thoughts on Lavender: Yes, I feel bad for Lavender even though she is very severe on Hermione. This is the way I see it: She knew Hermione was a huge threat, which was why she was so upset to see her with Ron. If she hadn't been a threat, Lavender might not have cared so much. But she did care. Lavender probably thought Hermione was the most intelligent, most beautiful, kindest, cleverest witch in Gryffindor and knew she didn't stand a chance against her in the contest for Ron's heart. Since we, the readers, knew all that as well, I feel a special affinity for Lavender. 

Special thanks in advance to everyone who spotted typos. You don't know how much I appreciate that.

And sorry there wasn't an update this morning. I was busy moving all my stuff into the apartment. Plus, this chapter was killer. There was just so much stuff I had to put in. UGH!

-----

The Triumph of Hermione Granger +

by Jen Ann Bradley

-----

Early Monday morning, Madam Pomfrey released Ron and Harry from the infirmary. Their robes and books had been sent to them during the night, which spared them a trip to Gryffindor Tower before breakfast. So they went out the door, carrying their knapsacks over their shoulders and laughing over the picture of Cormac McLaggen, which Ron had finally remembered to show Harry.

"Blimey," Harry had said when he saw it. "He looks just like Dudley Dursley when he's all blown up like that. And was that Ginny who made his toenails grow that long?"

To Ron's relief, Harry seemed to have forgotten all about Draco Malfoy. The incident with Dobby and Kreacher on Saturday night remained unmentioned, and Harry did not offer any new speculations as to what the house elves might find. Ron wished that his friend would finally put the matter to rest whenever the house elves made their reports. In the meantime, it was too much to hope for that Harry had really forgotten about Malfoy. And when they ran into Hermione, who had come to the infirmary in order to escort them to breakfast, Ron realized Harry's silence on Malfoy had more to do with his wanting to avoid one of Hermione's lectures than it did with his regaining a proper sense of his priorities.

Nevertheless, Harry did seem to have a resurgence of interest in the Quidditch team. After hearing that two of his Chasers had gotten into a fight, Harry seemed healthily concerned for the team dynamic, and questioned Hermione extensively about Dean and Ginny.

On the way to the Great Hall, they ran into Luna Lovegood, who was carrying a message from Dumbledore. Her hands were full already with something resembling an onion, a toadstool and something that looked like cat litter, meaning in order to deliver Dumbledore's scroll, Luna had to thrust these strange objects into Ron's hands.

"Wha…?" he asked, chagrined to learn that they smelled. The onion felt gooey, as if it were rotting.

Without answering, Luna handed the message to Harry, which was predictably enough about his lessons.

"Tonight," Harry explained, looking grave.

Meanwhile, Ron was eager to hand back the strange objects he was holding, especially the onion, which smelled the worst. Luna reached for them without noticing how his nose twitched and how his eyes watered when he handed over the onion. Then she stood there awkwardly, shuffling from foot to foot. A year ago, Ron might have run for shelter from Loony Lovegood, but her antics no longer bothered him. He had begun to care less and less what other people thought of him for talking to certain women. Besides, he had very much appreciated her Quidditch commentary, which had not only allowed him to hear what was going on while he lay in the infirmary, but had also been enormously entertaining.

"Nice commentary last match!" he told her.

Luna smiled at him. "You're making fun of me, aren't you? Everyone says I was dreadful."

"I can't remember enjoying a commentary more!" he exclaimed. Then Ron took the onion out of Luna's hand again and held it up to the light. "What is this, by the way?"

"Oh, it's a Gurdyroot. You can keep it if you like, I've got a few of them. They're really excellent for warding off Gulping Plimpies." Then she walked away without further explanation.

Ron chuckled as he watched Luna go, until he realized that he was still holding the onion and he didn't know what a Gulping Plimpie was.

Turning to Hermione, he asked, "What are Gulping Plimpies?" Ron made sure to hold the onion at a safe distance from his nose. With dismay, he realized that his whole hand would probably stink by the time he got rid of it.

"They're nasty, oozing pustules," she answered, playfully taking his arm. "You don't ever need to worry about them." At this, Ron positively glowed. Then Hermione took Harry's arm as well, and they proceeded to the Great Hall, walking arm-in-arm with Hermione in the middle.

On the way, Ron said, "You know, she's grown on me, Luna. I know she's insane, but it's in a good —"

He trailed off when he saw Lavender waiting for him at the foot of the marble staircase. She had her hands on her hips and was glaring at him so hard that it was comical. She had her eyes scrunched up so it looked like she was squinting, and she seemed to be trying very hard to fume, with the result that she looked like she had just come back from a jog. Instantly, Hermione withdrew her arm from his. Ron was tempted to catch it and put it back under his, but knew that if he did, Lavender might skin the both of them alive.

"Hi," he greeted Lavender, not needing to guess what was coming next. For Harry's sake, Ron had managed to be awake during her visit on Sunday, but after ten minutes, he had feigned exhaustion so she would leave. Ron wished he could do the same thing today, but even Lavender wasn't foolish enough to fall for that here on the staircase.

"C'mon," he heard Harry say as he pulled Hermione with him toward the Great Hall, leaving Ron to find his own means of escaping. He almost begged them to stay, but it was too late. They were running down the hall, glad to be free of Lavender Brown.

"Why didn't you tell me you were getting out today?" Lavender asked after Harry and Hermione had gone. "And why was _she_ with you?"

Ron chose to ignore the second question, which he was certain Hermione had heard before stepping into the Great Hall. As to the first one, the only thing he could do was play innocent.

"I didn't know I was getting out today," he said casually, as he started down the steps. This, of course, was a lie. He had known the date of his release since Wednesday.

"Well, Madam Pomfrey shouldn't have let you out, if you ask me," said Lavender, even though Ron had not asked. "No healthy person sleeps that much."

"I can't afford to miss any more classes," he said, a little defensive as he fretted over whether Lavender might catch him in his lie.

"Humph," said Lavender, latching onto his arm when he was at the bottom of the steps.

"Aren't you going to kiss me good morning?" she asked, making it sound more like an order than a question.

"Er…good morning." Ron leaned over and kissed her quickly on the cheek. He felt her oily concealer rub off on his lips, and he wrinkled his nose. Lavender glared at him, which unfortunately for her did not motivate Ron to kiss her again. She let out a miffed "Hmm," before noticing the Gurdyroot in Ron's hand.

"Did Hermione Granger give you that?" She pointed at the Gurdyroot with disgust and held her face away from it while pinching her nose shut with her other hand.

"No," said Ron. "Luna Lovegood gave it to me."

"Oh, then I suppose it's okay," said Lavender, sounding relieved. Ron didn't see why Lavender would be less disgusted by it if Luna Lovegood had given it to him. It still smelled the same, didn't it? But he supposed Lavender would treat anything Hermione gave him as radioactive poison.

"What's it for?" she asked.

Ron was about to say, "It wards off Gulping Plimpies," but stopped when he realized this was a perfect opportunity to get rid of the onion _and_ make Lavender lay off Hermione.

"Oh," he began, "I asked Luna to get this for me so I could give it to you." He handed it to her while wearing the biggest grin he'd ever faked. "It's a beauty charm. I thought it might come in handy."

"Oh Ron!" she cried, throwing her arms around him and pulling him down so she could kiss him on the mouth. "How sweet of you!" she exclaimed, jumping up and down like a kangaroo. Ron had no idea why he permitted her to pull him about, and had no clue why she was so excited over this rotting onion, but he was grateful that she wasn't glaring at him or questioning him about Hermione. During her last visit to the infirmary, she had been particularly abusive towards his friend, and had commented several times on the sorry state of her hair and the unsightly pimples on her nose, which Ron had yet to notice.

Ron wished that he could find the courage to tell her it was over, but he feared that such a statement would result in crying or screaming… Ron shuddered at the prospect, and decided that he could put off ditching Lavender for a little while more. It wasn't as if he had to spend time with her, because he _was_ still planning to avoid her if he could at all help it. It didn't seem like such a sacrifice on his part, and what was more, he could have a whole extra day to plan what he would say to her.

When they reached the Great Hall, Lavender asked him suddenly, "So what's it like to wake up and see your least favorite person first thing in the morning?"

Ron panicked, instinctively preparing to deny that Lavender was his least favorite person. He had been planning a tactful break up, and this would not be the way to begin one. He could deny it truthfully, right? Lavender wasn't _really_ his least favorite person. That had to be Snape or You-Know-Who or maybe Viktor Krum with Cormac McLaggen sneaking up from last place.

Only when Ron noticed that Lavender was nudging him flirtatiously, as if they were sharing a secret, did Ron understand that she had been talking about Hermione again.

"Who do you mean?" he asked, playing innocent.

"_Hermione_," she urged him expectantly. "She's been practically hanging on your every word since you woke up, and after not speaking to you all term…"

"Hermione's not so bad," said Ron with a non-committal shrug, although he knew that he ought to have said more.

"So you're friends again?" said Lavender sourly, emphasizing the word "friends."

"Yes," said Ron, now very irritated indeed. Lavender clutched his arm harder, nearly causing him to drop the onion, which she had not taken from him even though he had given it to her. He was apparently expected to carry it like a valet.

"Just checking," she said, retreating. "It's so difficult to tell with you two. You change status every three months."

This irked Ron, who felt that he and Hermione had always remained friends, whether they spoke or not. Fighting was a part of their yearly routine. "Well, we're friends again," Ron reasserted, more forcefully this time.

The image of Hermione in tears at his bedside came to mind as well as the essays she had painstakingly written for his sake. It warmed his heart to think of all the time she must have spent scribbling away on the parchment, wondering what she could do to make things right between them, never knowing that all she had to do was say a simple "hello."

For good measure, Ron added, "Hermione was really upset about the poison thing. She came in with a birthday present and I forgave her. "

"What was it?" demanded Lavender, hands on her hips again.

Ron almost told her, but then he thought of how much trouble he and Hermione would get into if any of the teachers found out that she had written practically all of his essays for the next month. "I don't remember," he mumbled, but seeing the satisfied smirk that came over Lavender's face, he clarified, "But I would have forgiven her if she hadn't brought me anything at all."

Ron realized that the 'perfect moment' had come. Tolerating Lavender no longer seemed like such a high priority. She was obnoxious, and what was more, he hadn't liked the way Lavender's lip had curled up when she'd asked if Hermione had brought him the onion. Nor had he appreciated the way Lavender had questioned him about Hermione while Hermione was still within earshot. In fact, he didn't like Lavender abusing Hermione, period… They were alone in the corridor. He could end it, right here, right now. Ron nearly did it, when —

Lavender said, "Oh Ron, you're such a sweet, forgiving person. I only wish I could be more like you."

Ron almost growled from frustration. She had ruined the moment, and he couldn't ditch her now. Pulling away from Lavender in a rush, he strode toward the entrance to the Great Hall, intending to join Harry and Hermione immediately. Unfortunately, he hadn't gone two steps when he was intercepted by Parvati, on her way to greet him and Lavender.

After being forced into a five-minute conversation, Ron had no choice but to follow them to their table and sit down.

-----

The week passed by in much the same fashion as it began, with Lavender constantly catching Ron in Hermione's presence. She had stopped asking why Ron was with "_her_," but now Lavender would usually join the conversation by grabbing Ron's hand or taking him by the arm and standing beside him, pretending to immerse herself in whatever was interesting to her boyfriend.

Hermione, to her credit, did nothing. Rather than sink to Lavender's level by staking her claim on Ron, Hermione always carefully extracted herself from whatever conversation she and Ron had been having to make a graceful exit. At first Ron thought she was happier to go than to remain, but by Friday he could tell that Hermione was getting tired of staying out of the way, especially on the last occasion Lavender interrupted them, when Harry had been telling them about his latest session with Dumbledore.

"I wonder if we really should go after Voldemort," Harry joked as they stood together outside the Great Hall before lunch. "If the Dark Arts job is only cursed while he's around then we should definitely keep him around for another year."

"Yeah," agreed Ron. "Before the year is out, we could all be waving good bye to Snape."

Hermione giggled. "If Snape hears you saying that, you'll be waving good bye, all right." Then she grew serious and said, "I wonder why Dumbledore—"

"Hey Ron!"

Ron felt Lavender latch onto his arm like a leech. He noticed that she hadn't said "Won-Won," which meant that she was trying to insinuate herself into his tight circle of friends, who never called him anything but "Ron." This in itself was more irritating than any nickname she could have given him. He felt so annoyed that he didn't bother saying hello to her before motioning to Hermione to continue. "So Hermione, you were saying?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at him, which meant, "_You can't honestly expect me to talk about it **now**?_ "

"Don't roll your eyes at my boyfriend," snapped Lavender.

Hermione's face flashed red with anger, and she opened her mouth to let loose what Ron knew would be an utterly scathing retort. He did nothing to stop it.

Harry, on the other hand, placed a soothing hand on Hermione's shoulder and turned on Lavender, obviously very offended that anyone would speak that way to Hermione. "Do you mind, Lavender?" said Harry, not un-politely. "We were talking."

"Anything you can say to Ron, you can say to me," she insisted, quietly. However, she seemed not so much defiant as hurt. "Right, Ron?"

Ron sighed, feeling very guilty that he had ever given Lavender the impression that she was privy to everything he discussed with Harry and Hermione. It wasn't her fault that she didn't know that the things he talked about with Harry and Hermione were so private that he wouldn't have told most of his own siblings. It seemed unfair to tell her to bugger off.

"Maybe you could find me later, how about that?" he offered.

Lavender considered this for a while, finally saying, "Okay." She left them reluctantly, casting them all suspicious looks.

Once she gone, Ron found that Hermione had become grave and was suddenly disinterested in the conversation. She was eyeing Lavender's retreating figure with a curious loathing that Ron had never seen in her face before. Ron nudged her, "You can roll your eyes at me whenever you want," he said. "I don't mind."

This produced a half-hearted smile, but she didn't reply.

"Why don't you ditch her if you're tired of it?" asked Harry for the umpteenth time, equally as irritated as Hermione.

"It's not that easy."

Harry shrugged and mumbled something under his breath that sounded like, _"Seems pretty easy to me."_

"Harry," Hermione intervened suddenly in a much more cheerful tone, which Ron sensed was forced. "We should get to the Hall. If we don't go in soon, we'll miss lunch."

Ron followed his friends into the Great Hall past Lavender's table to their own section. He sat down beside Hermione, ignoring the shocked glances he was sure that everyone at Lavender's table were giving him. He was certain Hermione had noticed them, for she sat very rigidly and seemed testy all throughout the meal, although she did her best to hide it. Only when Lavender and Parvati stood up to leave did she relax.

"Maybe you should go meet Lavender like you said you would," she said, voice and expression completely unreadable.

Getting up in the middle of his meal was not what Ron considered an ideal moment to see Lavender. There was no ideal moment to see Lavender. Instead, he swallowed the piece of pie he was chewing, as it had lost all flavor at the mention of his girlfriend. He didn't know why Hermione would want him to go see Lavender anyway. Ron decided it must be some sort of test that girls gave, and in order to pass it, he must under no circumstances go see Lavender.

He flashed a smile at Hermione and picked up his spoon. "What would I want to go see Lavender for?" he asked. "I'd miss dessert." Ron couldn't understand why Hermione was frowning at him as he dug into his custard.

-----

On Sunday of the next week, Ron was writing his DADA essay. Hermione and Harry were sitting with him, even though they had already finished their essays. Harry was perusing his potions book and Hermione was looking daggers at him while he did it. Even though he was supposed to be working, Ron found it amusing to watch his friends during the ensuing battle over the Half-Blood Prince. He especially liked it when Hermione's forehead creased as she started in on another lecture. It was also very cute how she held her quill, waving it around in order to stress her point. He charmed his quill to write in a straight line so he could continue watching as he wrote. Thus, it was not until he was nearly done that he looked down to discover that almost every single word on the page was misspelled. He gasped.

"How d'you spell 'belligerent'?" he asked, denying what had happened. Ron shook his quill, hoping that by this action he could cure its defect. "It can't be B — U — M —"

Hermione instantly abandoned her debate with Harry and pulled his essay to where she could read it. "No, it isn't," she confirmed. Then, with a giggle she pointed to the word "orgy." Ron blushed, not knowing how that had gotten there.

"And 'augury' doesn't begin O –R – G either," she laughed. "What kind of quill are you using?"

"It's one of Fred and George's Spell-Check ones…but I think the charm must be wearing off…"

"Yes, it must, because we were asked how we'd deal with dementors, not 'Dugbogs,' and I don't remember you changing your name to 'Roonil Wazlib' either."

Ron pictured Snape reading a completely illegible essay about orgies and Dugbogs and then ripping it up while screaming, "_Four hundred points from Gryffindor for lewdness and a pathetic lack of effort!_ " His only saving grace was that Snape would think the essay had been written by Roonil Wazlib.

Even worse than Death by Snape, however, was the thought of writing out the entire essay a second time. "Don't say I'll have to write the whole thing out again!"

"It's okay, we can fix it," said Hermione, setting down her own work without hesitation and pulling Ron's essay toward her. She took out her wand and pointed it at his name. Ron watched as the letters shifted and rearranged themselves until the paper was newly christened "Ronald Weasley."

Ron let out a sigh of relief, knowing Hermione had just saved him four hours of toil. He meant to express his gratitude with a simple "thanks," but what slipped out instead was:

"I love you, Hermione."

He blinked a little and sat back, rubbing his eyes, wondering how that had come out and whether he should have said it at all. Really, he had only meant, "thank you." It had even sounded like a thank you. It was a casual slip and nothing more, but what did it matter if he'd said it? It was true, wasn't it? Ron was too tired to give it any more thought. He buried his face in his hands and closed his weary eyes.

"Don't let Lavender hear you saying that," said Hermione. Ron removed his hands from his eyes so he could see her. He wasn't certain, but she looked as if she had been blushing.

"I won't," he said reflexively, but then hastily amended his plan. "Or maybe I will…then she'll ditch me…." Ron pictured Lavender jumping on him after class next morning and tried to map out a plan to avoid her. He was getting tired of running from her, of making excuses for forgetting to meet her, of making his friends lie for him as to his whereabouts. It had to end, and Ron couldn't help but smile as he pictured Lavender walking in on him and Hermione snogging in a corner. He remembered how Ginny had handled the situation, and imagined himself heroically shielding Hermione as he shouted, _It's no one's business but mine who I snog!_

"Why don't you ditch her if you want to finish it?" asked Harry, momentarily setting down his book.

Ron was also getting tired of this question. "You haven't ever chucked anyone, have you? You and Cho just —"

"Sort of fell apart, yeah," said Harry gruffly before returning to his book.

"Wish that would happen with me and Lavender," said Ron as he admired Hermione's face in the candlelight. She was tapping each of his misspelled words with her wand, completely oblivious to the fact that he was watching her.

"But the more I want to finish it," he continued, "the tighter she holds on. It's like going out with the giant squid."

Suddenly, Hermione's wand stopped, and Ron knew she was listening and pretending not to. Could she see him staring at her? Did he want her to see him staring?

Her head lifted slightly and their eyes met so briefly that Ron might have thought he had imagined it if not for the blush that crept over her cheeks when she went back to correcting his paper. The same thing happened a couple of times. Hermione would look up to see if Ron was still watching her, and inevitably he was. Whether or not it was embarrassing for her to catch him, Ron couldn't bear _not_ to look at her. Her hair was tucked untidily behind her ears, and hung down over her shoulders, concealing almost all her delicate features from view, but he could see her brow, furrowed in concentration, and the almost imperceptible flutter of her eyelashes whenever she blinked. He watched her rub her eyes with her hand, admiring every simple gesture. It seemed impossible that she hadn't noticed he was still staring, but she never once looked up.

Yet as he stared, Hermione seemed to drag out the correction process so that it took a whole twenty minutes for her to finish corrections that should only have taken five.

"There," she said, quietly, handing back his essay at last. Ron saw that she was flushed when he thanked her.

"Can I borrow your quill for the conclusion?" he asked.

Hermione handed it over without a word and buried her face in her book to hide the smile that Ron could see if he lifted himself up and peered over the binding. Finally, Hermione noticed that he was still looking at her and giggled.

"Do your work!" she hissed, but Ron could tell she was still trying to stifle that smile.

However, he did have to complete the essay, so he bent over it in order to begin the conclusion paragraph. He glanced up a few times to see whether Hermione was now watching him, but if she was, she was far more discreet than he had been. Her nose was buried in her book every time.

It was with great difficulty that Ron returned to his work, and even then it took ten minutes for him to produce a single sentence. Once he began, however, he found inspiration and was able to nearly finish it. He was just about to sit back and stretch when —

_Crack._

Ron was so surprised that he spilled his ink all over the essay.

"Kreacher!" cried Harry.

Furious, Ron whirled around to face the culprit. He was tempted to strangle the elf for ruining his work, S.P.E.W. be damned.

"Master said he wanted regular reports on what the Malfoy boy is doing, so Kreacher has come to give —"

_Crack_.

As if matters weren't bad enough, Dobby Apparated into the room.

Hermione was gaping at Harry as if he had a second head. "What is this? What's going on Harry?"

Ron examined the ruins of his essay and wondered whether he might be able to escape Snape's wrath by leaping head first from the astronomy tower. However, he suspected that even if he did, Snape would still find a way to penalize Gryffindor House. _Five hundred points from Gryffindor, twenty for each class missed by the late Mr. Weasley, who hadn't the sense to wait to rid the world of his pestilential presence before beginning the term!_

Meanwhile, Harry was interrogating Dobby. From the periphery of the conversation, Ron discerned that Harry had achieved some sort of epiphany concerning Malfoy's activities.

"The Room of Requirement!" Harry exclaimed, smacking himself on the forehead with his book. Ron stared at Harry, unable to muster the same enthusiasm for his discovery. He exchanged a sympathetic look with Hermione, whom he could tell was exasperated as well.

"That's where he's been sneaking off to! That's where he's doing…whatever he's doing! And I bet that's why he's been disappearing off the map — come to think of it, I've never seen the Room of Requirement on there!"

"Maybe the Marauders never knew the room was there," said Ron, making a half-hearted attempt to care about Malfoy. Dobby's report indicated that Malfoy was definitely up to something, but it was difficult to think about it when his paper lay soaking in black ink. Besides, Ron hadn't ever thought that Malfoy posed a real threat. He wasn't clever enough to concoct a truly diabolical scheme; and he was too young and cowardly to participate in one concocted by others.

Eventually, Hermione came to his aid again. But there were no flirtatious exchanges this time. She siphoned off the ink with her wand in the most efficient manner possible while continuing to speak with Harry. She handed it back to him without a word. Ron looked down at his essay to see that it was as good as new except for the final paragraph, which was still smudged with black ink that rendered it illegible. He scowled.

Soon after, Hermione departed for the girls' dormitories. It was obvious from the way the discussion had gone that Hermione didn't think Malfoy was important. As Ron examined the ruined section of his paper, cursing all house elves, Ron had to agree with her.

-----

Ron found it odd that Hermione had signed up for extra Apparition lessons in Hogsmeade when she could already Apparate perfectly. However, he was glad of her company and didn't even tease her about being a goody-goody when she joined him. Most of the sixth-year class was going anyway, since most everyone had jumped at the opportunity to escape the castle. The weather had been unusually good this spring, and today was no exception.

It was a brilliant spring morning, with not a cloud in sight. Best of all, Lavender would not be joining them since she would not be of age in time to take the Apparition test. He had a whole two hours alone with Hermione, free of interruptions!

The two hours started out well. Ron managed to Apparate, even though he did not arrive at the specified destination. Hermione had complimented him excessively on his improvement, which had pleased him to no end. But after Hermione executed a perfect Apparition, Twycross had taken her aside and talked to her for the rest of the practice session. Afterwards Twycross took the sixth years for drinks at the Three Broomsticks, and had placed Hermione beside him at his table. Ron had endured sitting at the opposite end from Hermione while Twycross petted her and puffed her ego up so that Ron was strongly reminded of a giant balloon. Ron could barely get in a word edgewise for all Twycross' exclamations of, "Brilliant! Never seen a faster learner!"

Not only did Ron feel lonely afterwards, but he also felt inadequate. If he couldn't grasp the concept of Apparition, he didn't know what he _could_ do. His thoughts snowballed into a mess of negative thoughts, and by the end of the lesson Ron had convinced himself that he was stupid and inept in comparison to every member of the sixth-year class. Even Neville Longbottom had found something to excel in - he had top marks in Herbology. Meanwhile, Ron felt mediocre, unexceptional and unworthy. Hoping to escape the tension of Twycross' table, Ron sauntered up to the bar and ordered another pint of butterbeer from Madam Rosmerta. When he looked back, he saw Hermione's eyes upon him. She looked concerned, he thought. Ron raised his glass to her and tried to look cheery. He even told Madam Rosmerta a joke, but unfortunately Rosmerta did not think it was amusing. However, when he got back to the table and had to listen to Twycross' obsequious rambling, Ron wished he had stayed up at the bar. Madam Rosmerta's scowls would be infinitely preferable to this slow torture.

On their way back to Hogwarts, Ron was testy, although he honestly tried not to be. They spoke very little until they were inside the corridor, heading toward the Great Hall. Then Hermione, as if sensing his mood and the reason for it, calmly said, "I wish Twycross wouldn't go on about me like that. It makes me uncomfortable."

"Yeah," said Ron, still grumpy. "It's like he's in love with you or something."

Hermione halted immediately and stared at him. "Are _you_ jealous of _Twycross?_" she asked, but she seemed more amused than angry.

Ron began to sputter like a boiling teakettle. _"No!"_ he was about to say (or maybe _"Yes!")_,when suddenly he saw Lavender hurtling towards him out of the corner of his eye. He didn't think she had seen him yet. There was still time to escape! Without a moment's hesitation, Ron bolted behind a doorway to hide himself, leaving Hermione standing out in the corridor.

Lavender's footsteps pattered dangerously close and stopped.

"Have you seen Ron?" he heard her ask Hermione.

Hermione was tapping her foot impatiently on the floor. "No," she said. "Nowhere."

"_Good,"_ snapped Lavender, rather cruelly. Then Ron heard her turn on her heel and walk the other way.

Hermione called to him when she judged it to be safe. "She's gone. You can come out now."

"Thanks," said Ron, brushing the cobwebs off his robes. The doorway he had chosen for a hiding place was apparently not much used. "I owe you one."

Hermione scoffed at this well-meant remark. "Why don't you just ditch her instead of hiding from her all the time?" she exclaimed, allowing the first signs of irritation he had heard from her since the poison incident to creep into her voice. Then she let out a little gasp and instantly covered her mouth with her hand, possibly because she hadn't meant to make such a suggestion. Either that or she had just stifled a burp, Ron didn't know.

At any rate, Ron wondered how she could have refrained from saying it sooner. Harry said it all the time, after all. And apart from Hermione and Apparition, ditching Lavender was all Ron thought about. He was sure she must have thought about him ditching Lavender a million times. With a sigh, they started again towards the Great Hall and as they began to walk, Ron tried to explain.

"I've been avoiding her for so long that we're not really going out anymore," said Ron, proudly. After all, avoiding Lavender successfully was a real accomplishment. "I'm just waiting for her to realize it."

Hermione shook her head. "She won't realize it until you tell her definitively that you don't want her," she replied in her schoolmarm voice. "She'll always keep some semblance of hope," she said.

"How do you know?" Ron shot back. "Lavender can see I'm not interested in her anymore. Even she can't be that dense!"

"A woman always hopes," sniffed Hermione, sounding suddenly as if she were close to tears. "It's in our nature."

Shocked at this sudden turn of her mood, Ron stopped her by taking hold of her arm. "Hermione…"

But she jerked away from him and walked off, wiping at her face. Ron feared the beginning of another feud of silence, but when he sat down beside her in the Great Hall, Hermione didn't mention the incident. They began eating their food and talking about Potions as if nothing had ever happened. Only when Harry arrived did they mention the Apparition lesson and the horrible time Ron had had in the Three Broomsticks.

-----

When Ron had successfully avoided Lavender for a whole week, he decided there was no need to officially break up with her. As far as he was concerned, it was over, and Lavender ought to have figured it out by now, no matter what Hermione said about women or their nature or any of that nonsense. Lavender should consider herself lucky that she hadn't been forced to hear the whole list of reasons why Ron couldn't go out with her any longer. And Ron counted himself lucky that he wouldn't have to give any reasons. He'd heard of a seventh-year prefect who had sent his ex-girlfriend, upon her request, an entire scroll listing his reasons for ditching her. The girl had snuck into the prefects' bathroom and lain in wait for him. Then she hexed his nose off and stuck it in a flower pot where he didn't find it until the day of graduation.

As such, Ron thought it would be best to avoid Lavender Brown until she got the picture. At any rate, avoiding her was getting easier and easier every day, so she must have had some idea of what was happening.

In the meantime, Ron had more important things to worry about. The Apparition test was coming up in another day, and he still couldn't remember the three D's even though he had watched Hermione practicing all the time. Not an hour went by when she didn't turn around in her little pirouette, waving her wand around and chanting, "Destination...Disinclination...Defenestration..." Or maybe it was, "Demonstration...Deliberation...Disapparition..." Ron was certain he would fail, but nevertheless, he hoped the examiners would be lenient. He would like not to be shamed in front of Hermione.

As it turned out, he was not shamed in front of Hermione. He Apparated almost perfectly, but failed the test literally by a hair. According to the examiner, part of his eyebrow had not made the journey with him.

Hermione passed of course, but Ron was happy to note that her elation was muted when she learned how closely he had missed achieving the same thing.

"That's unfair," she had actually argued with the examiner. "He has red hair! You can barely see his eyebrows anyway because they're so pale. Look again, he's not missing anything!"

"Yeah," Ron had joined in. "Losing part of an eyebrow isn't such a big deal anyway. If you were smart, you'd think about losing part of yours too." He was of course referencing the examiner's unibrow, which did not win him any points. In fact, Ron thought he saw the examiner cross off points, which was extremely unfair. Ron failed again.

They made fun of the examiner's unibrow during dinner. "He's just jealous of how fine yours are," said Hermione, running her finger over the eyebrow in question. Ron felt his face burn where she had touched him, and found that her simple act cheered him up immensely. He grinned throughout the rest of dinner.

-----

By the time they returned to the common room, the discussion had turned to Slughorn and the Felix Felicis, which Harry had decided to take in order to procure one of the Potions professor's memories for Dumbledore. The professor had not been forthcoming thus far, and outside help was required.

"It's a great feeling when you take it," said Ron, thinking of the Quidditch match against Slytherin back in the fall. "Like you can't do anything wrong."

"What are you talking about? You've never taken any!" Hermione poked him.

"Yeah, but I _thought_ I had, didn't I? Same difference really..." As Ron reminisced, he wondered why Harry hadn't taken the potion before. If it had been his, he would have taken it long ago. Maybe then he would have thought of a way to ditch Lavender and ask Hermione to be his girlfriend.

"Well, here goes," said Harry a while later, as he pulled out the bottle from a roll of socks.

"What does it feel like?" said Hermione, curious.

Harry pondered her question for a moment before he responded exactly as Ron knew he would. "Excellent," he said. "Really excellent. Right...I'm going down to Hagrid's."

"What?" Ron cried.

He met Hermione's eyes and shared yet another look with her that meant, "_Harry is insane_."

"No, Harry —" exclaimed Hermione. "You've got to go and see Slughorn, remember?"

"No, I'm going to Hagrid's, I've got a good feeling about going to Hagrid's."

"You've got a good feeling about burying a giant spider?" said Ron, who was secretly very happy that the monstrous arachnid was dead and who had rejoiced to receive Hagrid's tear-stained note.

"Yeah, I feel like it's the place to be tonight, you know what I mean?"

"No," said Ron at the same time as Hermione. But Harry was determined to go. He reached for his cloak and threw it over his shoulders.

"Trust me," he said. "I know what I'm doing...or at least Felix does."

Still confused, both Ron and Hermione followed Harry out the door of the dormitory, watching as he slipped the Invisibility Cloak over his head. Ron intended to follow him only so far as the exit. He had no intention of looking at spiders, and he certainly wasn't about to pay his respects to one.

But they lost track of Harry when they ran out the door and found Lavender Brown on the stairwell, ostensibly on her way to see Ron.

He hadn't seen her in almost a week, which made the meeting a complete shock. Ron had no idea what to say to her. As far as he was concerned, they were no longer dating...but she hadn't figured it out as he'd hoped. Hermione had been right. And now...well, how did one go about telling a not-girlfriend that she was not his girlfriend?

"What were you doing up there with _her_?" she shrieked.

"I, uh —" Ron recalled his original plan of declaring his love for Hermione in the open, but it seemed too dramatic at present. Nor could he muster the courage to step in front of Hermione and tell Lavender it was none of her business what he did. She seemed so hurt that Ron feared for his nose.

In the end, Hermione answered for him. "We were just talking to Harry!" she said, very angry indeed. "We are _allowed_ to do that, aren't we?"

"I don't see Harry anywhere," Lavender shot back.

"Well that's what we were doing," said Hermione with finality. "If you don't believe it, that's your problem."

"Won-Won?" called Lavender, like she was calling her pet.

When Ron glanced at Hermione to see whether or not she was going to rescue him again, he found her inspecting her nails, determined not to interfere further.

"I, uh, lo—" he tried again to act in accordance with his plan, but it seemed too cruel. Lavender really did look like her heart was breaking, and Ron could see Hermione still staring at her nails from the corner of his eye. He knew she was paying rapt attention despite her outward indifference, but this was not the time for such an important statement. "See, Lavender," he said, "Hermione and I are friends again, so you can't expect us not to be seen together. But it's not as if we were snogging —" _although, I would snog her if I thought she'd let me_, he added mentally.

"You liar!" screamed Lavender. "You told me she was a bossy-know-it-all, who never knew when to keep her mouth shut. You said you hated her!"

Ron felt like he was choking. He bitterly regretting all the nasty things he'd said about Hermione before Christmas, and glancing back and forth from Lavender to Hermione he prepared to fling himself at Hermione's knees to deny it all. For her part, Hermione gave no indication that she understood anything Lavender had just said, but Ron knew she had heard it all.

"I don't want you to see her ever again!" Lavender demanded.

Ron wheeled on her, redder than fire and so furious that Lavender recoiled in fear. Ron guessed that she knew what was going to happen next as she began to sputter and cough, like a cat choking on a hairball. However, she couldn't take her words back no matter how hard she wheezed. She had played her final card, and she had lost.

"Hermione's my best friend," he declared. "We were fighting before, but now we're not, so —" he trailed off as he thought of what to say next. A thousand possibilities leapt to mind. He could tell her that she was too pushy and asked too much of people, or that she was clingy and whiny. In the end, he couldn't make himself say any of it. However, Ron was confident, serious and firm when he said, "So I'm not going to stop talking to her just cause you want me to."

Lavender fumed at the ears and then turned her wrath on Hermione, understanding that she had lost her influence over Ron forever. "YOU!" she cried. "You boyfriend-stealing hussy! You did didn't even want him until he was mine!"

Then Lavender spun towards Ron. She yanked a ring from her index finger. "And YOU!" she roared. "We are finished! And take this!" Lavender hurled the ring at him, which barely missed his head, ricocheting off the banister instead. "You didn't give it to me, but I just wanted to throw something at you. You were too cheap to buy me anything anyway, and you're rubbish as a boyfriend!" Then she started using expletives that made Ron ashamed to have ever kissed her mouth.

When she skulked off, Ron turned to Hermione, a free man for the first time in months. He regarded her sheepishly, hoping she wouldn't be angry with him about the things he had said to Lavender. Now that he was free to act as he pleased, Ron knew exactly what he wanted to do.

She didn't seem to be angry. In fact, Hermione was neither smiling nor frowning, although Ron could see the shimmer of tears behind her eyes. His heart skipped a beat. She wiped at her eyes. "Oh Ron, I'm so sorry," she said. "You can go after her, if you like."

"I'd rather not," he said, kicking idly at the steps with his toe. He shoved his hands in his pockets and tried not to wonder what Hermione was thinking. Was she angry that he'd told Lavender he hated her, or was she pondering the truth of what Lavender had said, thinking maybe that Ron Weasley was rubbish as a boyfriend. "She's rubbish as a girlfriend," he added.

He couldn't quite meet Hermione's eyes, but when he glanced up he saw that Hermione was clutching the wall and had turned quite pale. She seemed quite nervous, more so than she'd been before taking the O.W.L.S.

"It's true, you know," she said, choking on her own words. Suddenly she let go of the wall, and came quite near.

"What is?" he gulped, looking down at her.

"That I…fancy you," she whispered.

Ron felt the wind knocked out of him, but he wasn't sure he'd heard correctly. "Wha…wha…what?" he stammered.

Hermione immediately backed away from him, mumbling something under her breath. She began wringing her hands, and seemed to be on the verge of tears.

"I mean, that is that…well, it's not just because of Lavender, I'll have you know!" she sputtered, making absolutely no sense. "It was before, and then…you and her…and I'm sorry Ron! I shouldn't have said anything and I'm going to bed now so just forget about this and…"

She started going up the stairs, when suddenly Ron figured out exactly what she had said, and realized that she meant it. He caught her by the hand and spun her around gently.

"I never really fancied Lavender," he told her, quickly. "I only went out with her because I was so angry with you for kissing Krum."

Hermione's head shot up as she stared at him, aghast. "How —?" she asked. Then her face scrunched up into her usual, bossy way. "Ronald Weasley, that is the stupidest thing...!"

Ron grinned so wide it hurt his face, but he couldn't stop. He remembered how he had lain on his bed that summer, staring hopelessly up at the ceiling and dreaming of something he thought would never happen. That boy was gone forever. Ronald Weasley had his dream within arm's reach tonight, and he knew exactly how to seize it.

"Come here," he said, taking Hermione by the hand and pulling her toward the boys' dormitories.

"Why?" she asked, suspicious.

Ron didn't answer as he led her back through the door and into the stairwell and finally towards a dark alcove behind a flight of stairs. It would be away from Lavender and Dean and Ginny and anyone else who had eyes. But Ron couldn't wait until they reached their destination, and before they had quite gotten there, he whirled around and kissed Hermione full on the lips, each of his hands gently framing her face.

"Mmm!" she squealed in shock, for she hadn't had the time to realize what he was doing even as he was doing it. Maybe her eyes were open, but Ron couldn't see because his were so tightly shut. Then Ron felt her arms go up behind his neck, and she was clutching him toward her, pulling him closer and closer until he forgot how to breathe and didn't care if he ever learned again. Her lips were softer than he'd imagined in his best daydreams, and her hair smelled like honey.

It was the most wonderful kiss he'd ever had in his life.

Whew! I felt like this chapter took forever to write. I think I'm going to have to revise it a bit later, but I realize that you're all waiting for an update.

To a few of my readers:

**spuffyfan22**: I can't believe you reviewed every single chapter. You're so loyal! Also, I love your pen name. I like spuffy too. I was disappointed by the Season 7 ending, and yet...it was very bittersweet. Dramatically, I don't think the end of Buffy and Spike could have been more poignant.

**princessdza**: Sure, I don't mind if you add me to your C2 community. And what story of yours would you like me to read?

**Love That Elf**: You have me intrigued. Why do you keep calling yourself my "humble reader?" :)

**Mia**: Good catch, thanks! I changed it. You know, I was also trying to figure out whether or not Lavender was in Ron's potions class. I didn't think so, but I couldn't remember.

**Satu Simpson**: Oooh, you can never have too many R/Hr fics. I noticed that when I converted from D/Hr to R/Hr (mostly). I couldn't find many stories at all, whereas the D/Hr writers have been incredibly prolific over the years. What's your fic about?

**brainychic96**: Well, if there's no fluff in Book 7, I suppose we can supply it ourselves. Again. Grrr.

**eckles **&** Vatel**: Well, I don't think I can do Hermione's POV, although it was easier to get inside her head in this chapter. And as for going past Book 6, I was thinking of maybe writing up to Bill and Fleur's wedding, if that counts.

**SweetAfton **(who reviewed from the Checkmated forums): Thanks also for catching that error in Chapter 1. _Always_ appreciated.


	7. The Secret Affair

Author's Notes: I'll try to crank out another chapter before tomorrow, but I'm going on vacation for a week, so I don't know if I'll manage it. But I've got a whole month before school begins again. My summer job just ended and I think I only have maybe 2 chapters and an epilogue remaining. So, I'll definitely get this done before September. The end is not too far off!

-----

The Secret Affair +

-----

The morning was as dreary as the sodden toast that landed on Ron's plate during breakfast. A light drizzle spattered the outsides of the windows in the Great Hall, falling from the ashen gray clouds that had strangled all traces of blue from the expansive sky.

The gloom of the day was, however, in direct contract to Ron's mood. He wouldn't have cared a whit for the sky or the formation of the clouds even if he had noticed them. He was too busy staring at his new girlfriend, sitting kitty corner from him beside Harry. He and Hermione had taken their usual spots at the table without thinking about how difficult it would be to play footsie with Harry's legs between them. Ron had accidentally kicked Harry while trying. So all Ron could do for the moment was look...and flirt like mad, of course.

"Ron, could you pass the pumpkin juice?" Hermione asked, pretending not to have noticed his staring.

"Sure," he said, handing her the pitcher. Their hands brushed secretively over the table as she took it from him. Both of them grinned before glancing at Harry to see whether he had noticed their exchange.

He had not. As he had been out late the previous night, obtaining memories and whatnot, Harry was currently busy doing what he ought to have done then, which was their Charms assignment, due within the next twenty minutes.

"Could you pass the butter, Hermione?" Ron whispered to her like it was some secret.

Hermione giggled. "You've already buttered your toast four times," she said, but handed him the butter anyway so their hands could touch once more across the table.

"Pass me the pepper," she said, a little breathless.

And so it went on and on, until Harry finally sat up stretching and announced that he was done. "Could you hand me the salt?" he said, causing Ron to jump. "These eggs are a bit bland."

Ron set the salt down in front of him, but did not try to hold his friend's hand. He looked to Hermione, and they both knew that their morning flirtation had come to an end now that Harry was alert. She seemed disappointed.

"Ow!" exclaimed Harry, looking at Hermione. "Why do you two keep kicking me?"

"Sorry," she said, glancing up at Ron.

Neither one of them had bothered to tell Harry what had happened the previous night. Ron knew eventually Harry would figure it out, but up until then it seemed a bit silly to take him aside and say, "Look, mate, Hermione and I have decided to go out." That would be kind of like saying, "Could you stay away from us once in a while so we can snog?" No, Harry should figure it out for himself, and when he did (months and months later from the looks of it) he would recognize that it didn't mean anything had changed in their friendship. Ron and Hermione were still his best mates, and they would always be at his side. Except, of course, when they were snogging behind closed doors.

In the meantime, Ron and Hermione neither publicized their relationship nor hid it from Harry. They left it completely obvious so that anyone would have recognized it, although they did try to tone it down in front of Lavender. Harry, however, was so engrossed in the latest events surrounding Dumbledore and his search for You-Know-Who's Horcruxes that he probably wouldn't have noticed if Ron proposed marriage to Hermione right in front of him.

During Charms, Harry cast the _Muffliato_ spell and began to explain what Horcruxes were. Ron was barely listening because he was too busy watching Hermione absently pack together a snowball from the fake snow she'd created on her desk during the previous exercise. She did this while reading the instructions on how to turn vinegar into wine.

"Dumbledore said I could come with him to destroy the third one," Harry was saying. He had a zealous sparkle in his eyes, a sort of dangerous glow that Ron noticed more and more frequently these days. It made him nervous, truth be told. He much preferred to look at Hermione, who currently had a little strand of hair sticking in the corner of her mouth that Ron really wanted to reach for and tuck behind her ear.

"Wow," he managed now trying to pay attention to Harry, complete his Charms exercise and watch Hermione at the same time. "Wow. You're actually going to go with Dumbledore...and try to destroy..."

Hermione tucked the loose strand behind her ear on her own. She peered up at him, innocently. He didn't know how it had gotten there, but shimmering flakes of snow glistened like crystal beads all over her hair.

"...wow," Ron finished, waving his wand around.

"Ron, you're making it snow," Hermione said, gently taking him by the wrist and lowering it away from the ceiling. She let go after noticing something behind him. Ron guessed the 'something' was probably Lavender. She'd been glaring at them all class.

"Oh yeah," he said, realizing where the snow had come from. "Sorry...looks like we've all got horrible dandruff now..."

He brushed the snow from Hermione's shoulder, stopping when he heard Lavender sobbing nearby. Harry, for all his obliviousness, did notice this. He looked hopeful when he turned back to Ron.

With a grin, Ron explained. "We split up lat night. When she saw me coming out of the dormitory with Hermione. Obviously she couldn't see you, so she thought it had just been the two of us."

"Ah," said Harry, who didn't see the way Hermione was beaming as Ron retold the story, "Well — you don't mind it's over, do you?"

"No. It was pretty bad while she was yelling, but at least I didn't have to finish it."

"Coward," teased Hermione. "Well, it was a bad night for romance all around. Ginny and Dean split up too, Harry."

Ron, who was now attempting to charm his vinegar into wine, heard the news with some satisfaction. He hadn't ever liked the idea of Dean and Ginny, although come to think of it he never had liked the idea of Ginny and anybody, except for maybe Harry.

Harry might be good enough, although his temper was almost as bad as Ginny's...but then again, maybe that would be a good thing. They could keep each other busy...by fighting, of course. Ron wasn't eager to think of them keeping busy any other way. Then he thought about how he wouldn't appreciate Ginny telling Harry all his secrets, like how he'd kept a blankie until he was eleven or how he used to like to eat Flobberworms when he was four because he wanted to be a fish. But maybe Harry would tell her to stuff it, because Harry _was_ his best mate, after all.

Ron ruminated on the possibility of Harry and Ginny until he noticed Flitwick walking directly toward their desk. He hissed an alert to Harry and Hermione before returning to his vinegar.

Hermione had no need of worrying. Her vinegar already resembled a good vintage merlot, whereas Ron's looked more like Sauerbraten sauce. Professor Flitwick coughed when he sniffed it, wheezing and hacking like he'd been gassed.

"Now, now boys," he addressed both Ron and Harry, "A little less talk, a little more action...Let me see you try..."

Ron tried.

Ron failed. When he flicked his wand his flask exploded, sending shards of glass scattering everywhere. One caught Hermione on the hand and she let out a little gasp.

Flitwick didn't notice. "Yes...for homework, _practice_," he said.

Ron took Hermione's hand under the desk and pressed his thumb against the little cut to staunch the bleeding.

"I'll help you later, if you want," she whispered.

"Okay," said Ron.

Harry was busy cleaning up the remnants of his flask and didn't notice. However, on their way back to the common room, he almost caught them holding hands in the hallway.

Even though, Ron hadn't meant to hide their relationship at first, sometime between breakfast and Charms class, it had become something of a game to see how long they could sustain the secret. He pulled Hermione's hand behind his back and stepped in front of her so Harry couldn't see. Hermione peeked around from behind his back, ostensibly grinning.

Harry eyed them suspiciously. "What's got you so cheery?" Harry inquired.

"It's a nice day," she said. Harry stared at them for a little longer, and Ron knew what he was thinking. _Nice day? There are clouds covering every piece of sky!_ But he appeared to be deep in thought about something else, probably Dumbledore or Malfoy, and he didn't press for a better explanation.

-----

"How did you know that Dean and Ginny split up last night? As I recall, you were quite busy last night," Ron asked later that evening after putting away his Charms equipment. Harry had gone upstairs to take a nap, leaving Ron and Hermione alone in a secluded corner of the common room.

Hermione peered up at him from her Transfiguration textbook with an expression on her face that indicated the answer to his question should have been obvious. "I sleep in the girls' dormitory," she explained. "Gossip travels faster than a wildfire."

"Oh," said Ron, accepting this. He wondered what other gossip was being spread around the girls' dormitory, but decided it would be best not to know. He wondered if the other girls knew that Lavender had forced him to wear that "My Sweetheart" necklace.

"Also, Ginny told me in the lavatory this morning," Hermione added, returning to her work.

"Well, that's good," said Ron, trying not to think of how strange it was that girls could talk about so much while on the loo. "Now maybe she'll find someone better."

"Like Harry, you mean?" asked Hermione, to the point.

Ron considered this. "I don't think he's interested."

"Oh don't you? Haven't you seen the way he looks at her?"

No. Ron had not noticed any such thing. His eyes narrowed as he pictured Harry eyeing his sister when he thought Ron wasn't looking. Surely, Harry wouldn't do something so secretive. "Well, don't you think he would have said something to me?" asked Ron.

Hermione snorted with disbelief and set her book aside, gazing up at Ron with confidence of her superior knowledge. "Honestly Ron, none of us confide in each other about whom we're dating. Also, he's probably scared that you'd beat him up."

"I wouldn't beat up Harry because of Ginny!" he exclaimed.

"You punched him over Romilda Vane," she said, casually turning a page.

Ron did not think it was fair to mention that, since he had been under a love potion. Also, he had apologized to Harry while they were in the infirmary. "I said I was sorry about that."

Hermione ignored this comment. "At any rate," she went on. "I hope it works out. Harry could use someone to ground him in reality."

Harry and reality? Ron flashbacked to his conversation in the infirmary with Harry, when he'd basically admitted to wanting to chase Draco Malfoy over playing Quidditch. Ginny loved Quidditch. He could see her standing in front of Harry with her hands on her hips saying, _Harry Potter, so help me if you ever think of missing a match on account of Draco Malfoy, I'll hex your ears off! _

Feeling that it would be disloyal to laugh at his friend, Ron stifled a chuckle at the thought of seeing Harry without ears. In response to Hermione, he only offered a supportive, "Yeah, I can see that."

Hermione began to twist her quill in her fingers, no longer able to maintain her pretence of study. "I worry that he fixates too much on other things when he's alone," she said. "And I just know that Potions book of his will end badly."

Ron sighed, having been through this a million times already. The thing about Hermione was that she never knew when to drop an argument. "It's just a book, Hermione."

"It's not just a book!" she exclaimed. "It's a cheat! It's the crib sheet to end all crib sheets!"

"So?" Ron shot back.

"So?" she cried, absolutely furious. "I work hard to earn my marks. It's _grueling, tiresome_ work. I'm up half the night sometimes squinting into my books just so I can come to class in the morning and not have people like Draco Malfoy sniggering at me in class. But _Harry_ never takes his classes seriously. He doesn't understand that the things we learn in class might one day be useful —"

"That Potions book _was_ useful," Ron cut her off. "I wouldn't be here without the Half-Blood Prince."

Hermione vehemently shook her head. "Ron, think! What if there had been no Prince? What if Harry had never gotten that book? He wouldn't have been able to help you because he hadn't paid attention in Potions class!"

"But he _did_ have the book. And Harry listens to everything that's important. I mean when is he ever going to need to know how to turn vinegar into wine!"

"Well, I don't know," spat Hermione, slamming her book shut. "Maybe some day when he's thirsty."

"He's resourceful," argued Ron. "He saved my life."

"He's cheating, Ronald Weasley!" she shouted, standing up and picking up her books. "He'll pay for it someday, mark my words."

It sounded like a curse or a threat, and was still thundering in Ron's ears when he realized that Hermione had began to walk away.

"Wait!" he cried, jumping up from his seat and chasing after her. "I'm sorry, okay? Don't leave."

"Let go of me, Ron," she said. Ron hadn't even realized that he'd grabbed her arm. He released her instantly like he'd been stung.

"Well, don't go away mad." Ron knew he couldn't let Hermione go away angry. He couldn't bear another frosty silence between them, not after everything that had happened. "I understand that you work really hard for your marks, and I'm sorry about Harry's book, but I can't do anything about it."

Hermione sighed and lowered her arms so that she was holding her books tucked under her arm rather than hoisted over her hip. Her anger seemed to have deflated for the moment, and Ron knew he had her.

"Don't go, please?" he pouted, knowing she'd fall for it.

"I let you get away with too much," she said, simply.

"Does that mean I get away with this?" asked Ron, although he was not exactly sure how Harry's use of the Prince's book had become something _Ron_ had to 'get away with.'

Oops. Suddenly, Hermione's temper flared once more. She rolled her eyes, and hoisted her books back onto her hip in a huff. "You're still not understanding me, Ronald!"

"What did I do? Just because Harry is better at Potions than you..." Ron realized too late that this was the wrong thing to say to Hermione.

"That's not the point!" she shouted. "And Harry is _not_ better at Potions. The _Half-Blood_ _Prince _is better at Potions than I am."

"Well, what's the point?" said Ron, following her to the stairs as she stalked off again towards the dormitories.

"Forget it," she muttered under her breath.

"No no, I want to hear the point. What's the point?"

But Hermione was already to the steps leading to the girls' dormitories, where Ron could not follow. "I said, forget it. I'll see you in the morning."

"No, don't go away angry!" he called after her, as she climbed the steps.

"I'm not angry!" she exclaimed without looking back. "I just don't want discuss this anymore." Then she slammed the door behind her.

"You brought it up," Ron mumbled under his breath. But even as he said it, he was mulling over what Hermione's point could possibly be. No matter what she said, she _was_ jealous of Harry's potions grade. Surely her point wasn't that they should pay attention in class. It was one thing to say it, but it was another thing entirely to get angry about it. Hermione had been friends with Ron and Harry for six years, and he thought she'd accepted their less than stellar scholastic aptitudes by now.

Anyway, how could he pay attention when class was so dull?

Ron slunk back to their table in order to collect his things. He began the long climb up to the dormitories, trying to think of a way to make it up to Hermione without letting on that he had no idea what she wanted him to understand. He was sure that if he didn't apologize in the morning, she would refuse to speak to him. But a simple, "I'm sorry," wouldn't do. She'd want to hear an entire explanation of just _why_ he was sorry, but Ron didn't know precisely why he was sorry. All he wanted was for Hermione to talk to him in the morning.

After arriving at his bed, he found Harry still napping. At this hour it was unlikely that Harry would wake up before morning, but Ron didn't feel like waking him up, not even to enlist his aid in wooing Hermione back.

Instead, Ron put on his pajamas and climbed under his sheets, rolling immediately onto his side. As he did, he caused a book that had been lying on his bed to crash to the floor. It landed with a thud, wresting Harry from his deep slumber.

"Jiiin...eee," he mumbled in his sleep before going back to sleep. Ron froze, as he realized that Harry was possibly calling for Ginny in his sleep, meaning that Hermione had been right all along.

Ron rubbed the bridge of his nose with his fingers, contemplating the unfairness of Hermione being right all the time. Then he shrugged off his resentment, deciding that Hermione was most certainly not right about Harry's potions book and that furthermore she was wrong about Harry and Ginny. He just couldn't let her know that he thought she was wrong because then she would never speak to him again. Unless, of course, he poisoned himself and almost died, but that seemed like too much effort.

-----

That night his dreams were full of spiders chasing him, taunting him. Ron tried to transfigure them into bunnies, but he couldn't remember the enchantment. He ran to Hermione on the way to the castle and begged her to help him.

"Ha!" she laughed, "Bet you wish you'd paid attention in class!"

Ron awoke just as the largest spider swooped down to bite his legs off. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, still gasping. _Bugger that_, he thought.

Harry came back from the lavatory to collect him for breakfast, but Ron found that he was in ill-spirits. His dream had made him think of a Transfiguration spell to turn objects into roses, which he had learned in second year and no longer remembered. It would have been a perfect make-up present for Hermione, and it frustrated Ron that he couldn't remember how to do it. If he had his second year textbook, he would have been able to do it, but his textbook was at the Burrow.

He considered asking Harry, whom Ron couldn't help but notice was strangely cheerful this morning, but Ron didn't want Harry to ask him why he needed to transfigure something into a flower. He couldn't find the strength to tell him that he'd managed to botch things with Hermione in only one day. Although, really he couldn't see how it was his fault. After all, she'd gotten mad first, and all he had done was defend Harry. So, really this was all Harry's fault for needing to be defended. If only Harry paid attention in Potions more often, he wouldn't have needed that book and then Ron wouldn't be in this mess! He found himself glaring quickly at Harry, who was too busy grinning to notice.

On their way into the Great Hall, Ron spied Hermione in the distance, already eating her toast. He felt a lump catch in his throat when he remembered their breakfast yesterday and compared it to the cold welcome he was sure that he was about to receive.

"Er...I'm not feeling hungry, mate," said Ron, stopping just as they had reached the doors.

Harry regarded him with narrow eyes. "You didn't eat any dicey Chocolate Cauldrons, did you?"

Of course, he would bring that up, thought Ron. "No, I'm just worried about the match against Ravenclaw. I think I'll go to the Prefect's bathroom now before I heave —"

Harry looked disgusted. "But the match isn't for a month..."

"Right, well, best get ready as early as possible, then," said Ron, running away before Hermione could look up and see them. He hoped Harry would tell her where he was. Maybe then she would come after him. In the meantime, Ron had every intention of trying to remember that spell...

He went straight for the bathroom, and once he entered he remained in the lounge where there were couches for him to sit on. Pulling out his wand, he mustered all the powers of concentration he could manage and said, "Volo desboutons!"

Nothing happened.

"Volo rosa!" Again, nothing.

"Volo rosae! Volo rosarum... Voudrais herbas!" The last incantation produced a handful of nasty snapping weeds, which Ron instantly dropped on the ground before they had the chance to bite him. They continued to snap at his toes, but Ron stomped on them, crushing them underfoot. Just then his stomach grumbled, reminding Ron that he was, in fact, starving. Whether Hermione would talk to him or not, he would have to get something to eat.

But before he could stand up to go, he heard a voice calling to him. "Ron?"

It was Hermione, slipping in through the entrance to the bathroom. She saw him and came over directly. "Ron, are you all right? Harry said you were feeling ill."

She stopped when she noticed the weeds snapping by Ron's feet. "What are you doing in here?"

"I was trying to transfigure a rose for you," said Ron, miserably. "But I couldn't remember the enchantment."

She surprised him with a laugh. "So do you admit now that I was right?"

_Say yes, Ron. Don't say, 'Right about what?' Say yes._ He smiled widely. "Yes," he said, a little too brightly to be convincing.

Luckily Hermione didn't notice, and they went together, hand in hand, to the Great Hall.

-----

The next few weeks passed quickly, and with the Ravenclaw match on the horizon, there was never a shortage of things to do. Quidditch practices were doubled and Ron's time with Hermione was halved. However, the high tension gave him the perfect excuse to run off and snog her whenever he wished. All he had to do was feign nervousness and rush off to the "bathroom" to "throw-up." Harry never questioned it.

Furthermore, Ron was beginning to suspect that Hermione might be right about Harry fancying Ginny. He followed them around whenever he could, just to see if he noticed any meaningful, shared looks or agonized, sideways glances. Maybe once or twice he thought he saw something in the way Harry spoke to Ginny, but he couldn't be sure. Plus, Harry never mentioned Ginny unless someone else brought her up, so it was difficult to remain suspicious.

Ron rather pointedly changed the Gryffindor Tower password to, _Quid agis_, which was the Latin for, "What are you doing?" but Harry didn't seem to catch on, or if he did, he wasn't persuaded to be forthcoming about his intentions toward Ginny.

Therefore, Ron remained in the dark as to whether or not Harry and his sister were having a secret affair (even though Harry was supposed to be his best mate, meaning he was supposed to tell him everything). In retribution, Ron decided he wouldn't mention Hermione until Harry said something about Ginny. Until Harry stopped behaving so suspiciously, Ron would keep him on a strictly need-to-know basis.

And so, when a few days before the Quidditch match, he and Harry and Hermione were walking to dinner and Hermione was doing that irresistable thing with her fingers in her hair, Ron didn't say, "Well, Hermione and I are going to go this way." Instead, Ron exclaimed, "Blimey, I've got to throw up again."

Hermione grinned at him. "Really?"

"Oh yeah. I'm feeling so nervous. I'll just be in the boy's bathroom! The one on the second floor dormitories!"

At first Hermione seemed reluctant to take Ron's hint that he wanted to go snog in the boys' dormitories. He started thinking that maybe he had overstepped the bounds of decency. Hermione was staring at Harry's essay, the one she had been proofreading in the common room, but her eyes were not focused on it. Her cheeks were flushed. Ron began to inch back toward Gryffindor Tower, hoping she would follow. He nearly cheered in triumph when he saw Hermione hand Harry's essay back to him.

"Oh," he heard her say, "I just remembered that I have to er…see Professor Vector."

"Right now?" asked Harry. "What about dinner?"

"Well, I think I made a mistake in my last Arithmancy essay, and I have to correct it. Now."

Ron scurried up the stairs and hid behind a doorway until Hermione found him.

She kissed him lightly on the mouth before drawing back. "Honestly Ron, you can't keep using the same excuse all the time."

"It was better than yours," he said. "_I have to fix my essay. Right now. I can't wait!_" he mimicked her voice.

"Oh clam up. I do have to fix it, you know," she said and leaned in for another kiss.

-----

Twenty or thirty minutes later, when they were both too hungry to snog anymore, Ron and Hermione decided to make their way to the Great Hall. The plan was to join Harry, eat a quick meal and then head to the library where they could study without being tempted to fall all over each other. Hermione had complained that their snog sessions were causing her studies to slip, although Ron could see no evidence of it.

They were rounding the corner to go down the flight of steps leading to the common room when Hermione gasped. "I forgot my essay," she said. "Wait here, I'll go get it."

Ron stood at the top of the steps, dutifully waiting for Hermione's return when he heard the portrait swing open and a monster stepped through. He was so covered in filth that for a moment he looked inhuman. It took a few seconds before Ron realized that he was facing Harry.

"Where've you — ? Why are you soaking — ? Is that _blood_?"

"I need your book," Harry cried. He was panting and urgent, and he was half way up the stairs, with his hand outstretched. "Your Potions book. Quick...give it to me..."

"But what about the Half-Blood —"

Harry outstretched his arm again, practically shaking it in Ron's face. He was half-crazed. "I'll explain later!" he said.

Without question, Ron lowered his schoolbag from his shoulder and pulled out the book in question. He gave it to Harry, who seized it and ran before Ron had the chance to say, "When will I get it back?" He gaped at the portrait as it swung shut.

Just then Hermione came down. "What happened?" she asked. "Was that Harry?"

"I think so," replied Ron, numbly.

They left the common room together, while Ron explained to Hermione what had just happened. When the reached the Great Hall, they found Millicent Bulstrode tugging a frantic Pansy Parkinson past them and up the stairs. "Is he all right?" Pansy was screaming. "Is he ok?"

A small congregation of students from all four houses were clustered at the foot of the steps. Among them was Ernie Macmillan. Hermione grabbed him by the arm as they came down the steps. "Ernie, what happened?" she asked.

Ernie stared at her. "Harry Potter tried to _murder_ Malfoy in the bathroom!"

-----

To a few of my readers:

**Love That Elf**: Good point about Lavender! I considered what you said. I may make some changes later, but in the meantime you inspired parts of this chapter.

**NormalGirl**: Ha! How very flattering, but I doubt that you would want my life. Not that my life is bad. I think my life is pretty good, but it's not good enough for anyone to want it. Also, I don't mind it if people point out typos. They completely disrupt the flow of action. Sometimes a single punctuation error can destroy the power of an entire sentence. I believe that it's good to edit one's work.

**SaSuch33**: Yeah, you're right! Harry didn't even notice that Hermione had that thing going on with Krum in Book 4. And Ron never noticed that Ginny was going out with Michael Corner or Dean until other people told him. I think the characters really just don't talk to each other about their love lives. I don't know if that's a British thing or a writer's device or human nature or what.

**LimeJuiceTub**: Well, people use 'unibrow' too, but if they only use 'unibrow' in America, I will gladly change it to 'monobrow.'

**WeasleyGirl****-ca**: Fiction Alley, eh? I've always admired those people. It seemed like that was the place to find the best fics, only I haven't visited the site in a long while.

**Mia**: Yeah...I don't really know if they got together either. There seem to be all these hints, and yet they never tell Harry or Ginny. Even so, after Book 6 I started thinking, "Well, maybe this is all we're going to get." My reasoning is that I can't ever really see J.K. Rowling making a big production of R/Hr's first kiss because the book is all from Harry's point of view and I'm not sure Ron and Hermione would kiss in front of Harry. Maybe all we'll ever get is Ron saying to Harry, "Oh yeah. It happened a couple months ago."

**SatuSimpson**: Who are the Teen Titans?

**Meghan**: You spelled it correctly. Unless you're British, in which case I believe it is spelled with an 's' instead of a 'z.'

**Dance to RANDOMNESS**: Damn it! You caught on to my master plan of melodrama and extreme mushiness. I was going to have Hermione get pregnant and die in childbirth, after which point Ron would drink himself into a stupor until he uncovered a prophecy that said Hermione was going to return from the dead in order to kill Voldemort with her magic powers that she can wield without a wand. Then they were going to kiss and kiss and kiss and make the beast with two backs and have two more children who would grow into the saviors of the wizarding world in the 400,000 word sequel where Harry and Ginny would finally get married after professing their undying devotion on a ship bound for a dangerous mission in the North Pole, where it was so cold that they had no choice but to huddle together naked under the blankets for warmth...and I think this response is actually becoming Rated R.


	8. The Trouble With Harry

Disclaimer: Characters, situations, some of dialogue belongs to J.K. Rowling and her publishers.

Author's Notes: Well, I'm back from vacation. Sort of. It's rather difficult to write now because I'm surrounded by people and fun things to do, whereas before I was stuck in a dingy apartment in a boring town where I had nothing to do and very little in the fridge to cook.

The Trouble With Harry +

-----

While Harry was wherever he was, Ron, Hermione and Ginny ate a miserable dinner in silence, trying (but failing) to ignore the whispered rumors spreading behind them about why Harry had attacked Malfoy. Dinner was winding down, and most students had long since returned to the common room. However, a few ran back and forth rather than make a definitive exit, in order (as Ron had no doubt) to pass on more gossip. Meanwhile several of the Gryffindors made anxious inquiries to Ron and Hermione, figuring that they would know best what Harry was up to. Most of their questions seemed excited, trusting that Malfoy had at last received his due, however, a few expressed alarm at Harry's conduct and hoped it would not result in a major deduction of House points. In an attempt to avoid such attentions, Ron, Hermione and Ginny left the Great Hall. However, once they were outside, they found the corridors were in an even greater uproar.

Moaning Myrtle had the whole school crying 'murder,' and a white-faced Pansy Parkinson was running through the halls, spinning a story so fraught with tragedy and mayhem for anyone who wanted to listen that a few students began to speculate that Harry would be sent to Azkaban prison.

"Who would guard him?" scoffed Ron, thinking about how the Dementors had defected to Voldemort.

By the time they returned to Gryffindor Tower, they had more or less heard the entire tale. On the way, however, Ron they ran into a group of young Ravenclaws standing around in Gryffindor territory, ostensibly to collect the latest gossip from what they considered to be the most reliable source. They seemed to have become bored with waiting for news, however, and had begun to make it up. Ron ended up giving a detention to a Second Year, who was spreading lies about how Harry's wand had already been snapped in half.

After sending the errant Ravenclaws on their way, Ron whispered the password to the Fat Lady and slunk in through the portrait with the others. Once in the common room, he sank onto the arm chair closest to the stairs and rubbed his eyes with his hands.

It irked Ron that the entire school was so ready to pounce on Harry for every little misdeed, even after Harry had proven himself time and time again to be a good friend, a worthy champion and an ardent fighter of evil. Couldn't they have a little faith? Obviously, Malfoy had done something to deserve Harry's wrath. He must have thrown a curse or hex Harry's way or something. Malfoy _must_ have provoked Harry. Ron repeated this over and over again in order to eradicate that teasonous sliver of doubt that said Harry had gone too far this time with his obsession and had deliberately attacked Malfoy.

However, Hermione, who had been silent up until now, was unable to keep silent. As soon as they set foot in the common room, she began her inevitable rant. "I warned him!" she started. "I warned him about that book, and now he's gotten himself into real trouble."

Ron looked up to find her wringing her hands and pacing around the room.

"He should have gotten rid of that book months ago! I know it's just gossip about Azkaban, but what if he _is_ expelled. If he's caught with that book, it's cheating. Dumbledore won't —"

As Hermione passed near his chair, Ron caught hold of her hands and held her in place. "Calm down," he said, wishing to avoid another lecture on the Prince. Ron didn't think he could take one of Hermione's speeches right now.

"He won't be expelled," said Ginny from her spot by the fireplace. She too was pacing back and forth and despite her confident assertion, Ron thought that she looked worried sick.

Hermione broke away and crashed onto the couch with a sigh. "I warned him," she said again, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I'm sure Harry had a good reason to attack Malfoy," said Ron, trying to convince her of something he was not entirely sure of himself. "Maybe it doesn't have anything to do with the Prince at all."

"Why else would he have asked for your Potions book if it didn't have anything to do with the Prince?"

"Maybe he was afraid of being searched," said Ginny, weakly. Then she turned back to the fireplace and was quiet while Ron considered how slim was the possibility that the incident had nothing to do with the Prince. He turned away from the conversation, which was now dominated entirely by Hermione. She didn't seem to notice, however, and was still talking when the portrait swung open and Harry sauntered in.

Ron gasped at Harry's bedraggled appearance. His head hung low. His face and clothes were covered in dried blood. He looked as if he were going to be sick.

"Harry!" cried Ginny, running to him.

Harry barely looked at her. Ron thought he seemed dazed and confused. He had only seen Harry look this way after the Tri-Wizard tournament and last year after Sirius —

Could it be possible that Malfoy was really dead and Harry _was_ going to Azkaban?

"What happened?" he heard Ginny say.

Harry glanced up, apparently surprised to see the three of them standing in the common room. "Er…I was in the bathroom." he began, stiffly. At first, Ron wondered why Harry was bothering to tell them they he had gone to use the loo, until he realized that Harry was referring to the scene of his attack on Malfoy.

"What happened, Harry?" asked Ginny, very gently.

"I used this hex from my book…" Harry trailed off and, although Ron had not thought it possible, he turned whiter than before. "I didn't know how much blood there would be."

So, Hermione had been right. It _had_ been the Prince's book. Suddenly, Ron remembered how Harry had stormed into the common room, demanding his Potions book with a hand drenched in blood. "Why did you do it?" Ron blurted out. "Did Malfoy attack you?"

To Ron's relief, Harry gave a short nod. "I think he tried to use the Cruciatus Curse."

Ginny and Hermione both gasped. Ron merely felt satisfied. He had known Harry would never attack anyone unless provoked, and he felt vindicated now in his faith.

"What did you use?" asked Hermione with pointed curiosity.

"_Sectumsempra_," said Harry. "I just didn't think...so much blood..." Harry was unable to go on. In fact, when he faced Ginny, he looked like he might cry. "Snape gave me detention every Saturday."

"But Quidditch — !" she exclaimed.

Harry collapsed onto the nearest armchair and buried his face in his hands like a man who has just witnessed his own death. Whether Harry was more upset over what had happened in the bathroom or the loss of his Quidditch privileges, Ron could not say. What was clear, however, was that he was terribly upset over both.

For a long time nothing more was said. All three of them simply watched Harry, perhaps searching for the right thing to say. Ought they try to comfort him, or would it be best to say nothing at all?

Hermione spoke first, pouncing headlong onto the silence without regard for the fragility of the moment. "I won't say 'I told you so,'" she said, her voice bitter.

Ron realized where this was leading and mentally groaned. This was not the appropriate moment to chastise Harry.

"Leave it, Hermione," he warned her. However, Hermione refused to listen. She narrowed her eyes at him as if he were Judas and barged on.

"I told you there was something wrong with that Prince person, and I was right, wasn't I?"

"No, I don't think you were," said Harry, flushing red.

Hermione shot to her feet. Ron waited for the fireworks.

"Harry, how can you still stick up for that book when that spell —"

"Will you stop harping on about that book!" cried Harry. "The Prince only copied it out! It's not like he was advising anyone to use it! For all we know, he was making a note of something that had been used against him!"

Ron watched the pair of them panting like boxers, red-faced and furious, and felt as miserable as he did helpless. He was beginning to understand how Harry felt when he and Hermione were fighting like dogs. He definitely had an opinion on the matter: Harry was entitled to do as he pleased, even if "as he pleased" was questionable. But how could he say so without risking the wrath of both friends?

He looked at Hermione, recalling their argument a few weeks ago that had resulted in her stalking off to the girls' dormitories. Yes, it was definitely in his best interests to remain silent.

Hermione was fuming now. "You're actually defending —"

"I'm not defending what I did!" roared Harry at the top of his lungs. "I wish I hadn't done it, and not just because I've got about a dozen detentions. You know I wouldn't've used a spell like that, not even on Malfoy, but you can't blame the Prince, he hadn't written 'try this out, it's really good'—he was just making notes for himself, wasn't he, not for anyone else..."

Hermione stalked towards Harry, practically breathing fire in his face as she shouted. Ron had never seen her so angry at Harry in all their years together. She looked as if she had never quite understood Harry's character until that moment.

"Are you telling me that you're going to go back — ?"

"And get the book? Yeah, I am. Listen without the Prince I'd never have won the Felix Felicis. I'd never have known how to save Ron from poisoning, I'd never have —"

"—got a reputation for Potions brilliance you don't deserve..."

"Give it a rest, Hermione!" cried Ginny, suddenly coming to Harry's rescue. Ron almost gasped with surprise, for like him Ginny had only been a passive listener up until now. Even so, Ron was grateful that someone other than him would be the peacemaker. "By the sound of it, Malfoy was trying to use an Unforgiveable Curse, you should be glad Harry had something good up his sleeve!"

"Well, of course I'm glad Harry wasn't cursed!" said Hermione. "But you can't call that Sectumsempra spell good, Ginny, look where it's landed him! And I'd have thought, seeing what this has done to your chances in the match —"

"Oh, don't start acting as though you understand Quiddtich! You'll only embarrass yourself."

And that was the end of it. Ginny had won cleanly in two strokes, whereas Ron hadn't figured out how to win an argument with Hermione in six years. He wondered what the consequences would be, and whether he would be at the receiving end of Hermione's abuse. Nervously, he glanced at Harry, wondering if he shared his confusion over how the argument had been put down so quickly.

Then his eyes drifted to Hermione, whom he found to be staring at him, looking like she expected him to say something. If she did expect this, however, she was too proud to ask for his intervention when it did not occur. Ron simply picked up his book and pretended he'd never witnessed any part of the argument.

By the end of the evening, the silence in the common room had become noticeably uncomfortable, but no one was willing to leave. Ron sensed that for the girls, leaving meant defeat. As for himself, leaving the room meant going to bed and waking up in the morning to face the reality of a Quidditch team without a Seeker. His only comfort was that it could be worse. After all, Umbridge might have returned and sacked the whole team.

On the following morning, no one on the Gryffindor Team remembered that they had been in worse spots before; not even when Harry reminded them of their triumph over Ravenclaw last year, snatched despite the absence not only of their premiere Seeker, but also their best Beaters. Even though Ron was certain that all his teammates were pleased that Malfoy was lying in the infirmary, no one was happy that _Harry_ had put him there. Only Dean Thomas seemed to be pleased with the arrangements, since Harry's absence meant he would be able to play Chaser. There was a great deal of grumbling during the team meeting in the common room, so much that Ron almost felt insulted that no one showed any faith in his sister's ability as a Seeker.

He confided in Hermione later after Potions. "It's pretty bad, I suppose, but they don't have to be so dismal about it. Ginny caught the Snitch last year. She's more than competent as Seeker."

To this, Hermione answered with only an offended huff, indicating that she had not forgotten Ginny's slight against her. When Ron pressed on into a discussion of the team's new strategy, Hermione wheeled on him, saying, "As I don't understand anything about Quidditch, maybe you should direct this conversation to someone who does."

Ron blushed red and bit back a stinging retort about how Hermione should get over her fight with Ginny because Ginny _had been right_ anyway about the Prince, and it wasn't Hermione's business to tell Harry what to do with his possessions. Fortunately, Hermione didn't notice his quick flash of anger and went back to her reading without another word, leaving Ron to wonder whether Hermione was angrier with Ginny or with him. And if she was angry with him, what had he done to make her so?

On Saturday, however, Ron was relieved to see Hermione and Ginny laughing together. It seemed that they had made up or come to some sort of understanding. Their joking didn't seem to have any of the superficiality so common between feuding females. At any rate, when he walked with the team onto the Quidditch pitch, Hermione cheered equally for him and for Ginny, although Ron suspected that Hermione had not kissed _Ginny_ on the cheek as she had done for him before he'd entered the changing room.

The sight of Hermione rooting for him from the stands was immensely comforting, especially after Ron spied Lavender glaring at him next to Parvati. When he heard Hermione cheering his name, Ron knew that Gryffindor would win. But for all his optimism, the match began poorly. The Ravenclaw Keeper blocked every shot the Chasers attempted, and the Bludger struck Ron on the ear, stunning him and causing him to allow the Quaffle through the center hoop.

In the middle of the match, however, Peakes took a lesson from the Ravenclaw Beaters and sent the Bludger whizzing at the Keeper's face. Ron felt justly avenged and cheered for his teammates from the opposite end of the pitch as he watched the Quaffle soar into the Ravenclaw hoops. From then on, there was no stopping the Gryffindor Chasers. The Quaffle remained on Ravenclaw's side of the pitch for such long periods that Ron had very little to do.

Most of Ravenclaw's goals for the remainder of the match were scored on breakaways. Yet never once did Ron lose his confidence. He was consistently able to execute perfect saves, the last one of which he managed while hanging upside down in order to dodge a Bludger.

Two hours into the match, when Gryffindor was still racking up their points in pursuit of the Quidditch Cup and Ravenclaw had all but ceased to try, Cho Chang spotted the Snitch and took off for it in a desperate bid to end the misery. She was too late by far, however, as Ginny was much closer. Ginny had caught it before Cho got within five meters.

The players descended to the field where their Housemates closed in upon them, slapping their backs and showering them with magically-conjured water and confetti.

"We did it!" cried Ron when Hermione embraced him. She brushed some confetti out of her hair and pulled back, beaming.

"That last save was just brilliant, Ron!" she said, so sincerely that Ron decided he would kiss her right then and there. He was only prevented from it by a splash of cold water coming from a transfigured bucket positioned over his head. Irritated, he looked around to locate the culprit, but there was too much confusion for him to see.

His teammates, meanwhile, were pulling him out of Hermione's arms towards the dias where they would receive the Cup. All the while they sang "Weasley is Our King," which sported a new verse specially written for Ginny.

"I'll see you in the common room!" he shouted to Hermione as Peakes and Ginny dragged him away.

Hermione blew him a kiss, which no one noticed in all the celebration. Ron positively melted.

"I can't wait to tell Harry!" exclaimed Ginny later on when they reached the changing room. "He was so afraid we'd lose and it would be his fault."

Ron felt embarrassed because Hermione's blown kiss had erased from his mind all memory of Harry being on the team. Even if Harry had not been present, much of the victory belonged to him. He had been their Captain and had been responsible for choosing each of the players and training them.

"Yeah, he'll be ecstatic!" said Ron, covering up his memory lapse. When he turned around he found Dean Thomas yanking off his Quidditch robes, glowering as he did it. The expression on Dean's face was similar to the one Lavender had shot him earlier, but Ron pretended not to notice.

The whole team then proceeded back to Gryffindor Tower, taking turns holding the Cup and speculating out loud over what sort of celebration would await them upon entering the tower. Along the way, they passed Crabbe and Goyle, who seemed strangely naked without Malfoy to lead them. The pair watched the procession of Gryffindors with an eerie calm, but Ron felt he was the only one to notice.

A sense of foreboding came over him then, even when Ginny shoved the Cup into his hands. The feeling did not abate until he stepped once more through the portrait and into the Tower to find kegs of Butterbeer, courtesy of Professor McGonagall, awaiting him behind his fellow Gryffindors.

He found Hermione instantly. She was sitting on the couch, conversing with Cormac McLaggen with a faintly bored expression on her face. McLaggen seemed so frustrated that Ron was unable to muster a single ounce of jealousy, especially when Hermione jumped to meet him as soon as she saw him.

She shoved a Butterbeer into his hands and suddenly there was no Crabbe and Goyle, and no wounded Malfoy. He clanked his mug against hers and took a deep swig. "To victory!" he said, this time raising his glass and the Cup toward all his teammates. "Cheers!"

Just then, Harry stepped through the portrait hole and stared at the festivities in disbelief.

"We won!" yelled Ron, holding up the Cup as proof. "We won! Four hundred and fifty to a hundred and forty! We won!"

This statement didn't seem to register with Harry, who looked around dumbly at the crowd of grinning, drinking Gryffindors. Suddenly, Ginny broke through and ran to Harry, throwing her arms around him.

Ron was completely baffled by what happened next. So baffled that he had to blink his eyes a few times in order to discern whether or not Harry and Ginny were actually kissing in the middle of the common room.

He looked to Hermione as if to confirm it, but she was too busy watching. What finally tipped him off, however, was the sound of broken glass. When Ron whirled around to see what had happened, he saw Dean Thomas glaring at the scene before them, holding a shattered mug. His robes were spattered with Butterbeer. Ron recognized the jealousy in Dean's face and sympathized. Moreover, he understood that yes, Harry had indeed kissed his sister…and was still kissing her.

…And was still doing it.

But they seemed pretty happy and well as long as Harry didn't make a habit of this public snogging thing, him and Ginny didn't seem to be a bad idea. So when Harry finally broke away and looked at him, silently asking for his approval, Ron gave it with a little shrug. After all, if Ginny were going to end up with anyone, Harry wasn't such a bad bloke.

Ron supposed Harry would do.

-----

Since Harry was going out with Ginny, and since Ginny never lost the opportunity to blab about Ron, and since Hermione told Ginny everything, Ron was certain that Harry knew what was happening between him and Hermione. There were even a couple of moments when a look was exchanged or something was said, but nothing was ever definitively discussed. If Hermione and Ginny had been two different girls, it was possible that Ron and Harry might have swapped stories. However, Harry knew that Ron would prefer not to hear of his exploits with Ginny, and Ron figured that Harry felt the same way about Hermione.

Ron wished sometimes that Harry and Ginny would keep their relationship a little less public. They tried, but Harry attracted so much attention and, as Hermione had told him, Ginny's relationships were heavily monitors by hordes of jealous Hogwarts boys, meaning it was difficult for them to escape the gossip mongers. Nevertheless, Ron still felt Ginny could have done a better job of keeping her affairs private. He was positively fuming over the information she had given to Romilda Vane about Harry's alleged tattoo.

And now everyone thought Ron had a Pygmy Puff inked somewhere on his body… How humiliating. Whenever he saw Lavender now, she was always smirking at him as if the knowledge that he had a stupid tattoo was suddenly the key to getting over him.

Oh, why couldn't he have been the last Weasley of his generation?

"I'm worried about Harry and Ginny," said Hermione as he was pondering this. They were sitting at the dinner table, which the parties in question had just left in order to have some private time out on the grounds.

"Why?" asked Ron, feeling sheepish that she had read his mind.

"I think Ginny isn't studying enough for her O.W.L.S. Harry is obviously distracting her."

On second thought, Ginny's exams had been the farthest thing from what Ron had actually been thinking that he laughed out loud.

"What?" asked Hermione. "You don't think it's a valid concern?"

"Harry's in detention most evenings. I think Ginny has plenty of time to study."

Hermione screwed up her face and took a bite of her lamb. Ron considered asking her what was wrong, but before he could she breezed on to a new topic. She didn't mention Ginny's exams again for several days, although Hermione's moods proved unpredictable at times. She took up a new project in the library, but refused to tell him what it was. She couldn't be studying for exams, for they had no important tests in Sixth Year. All the information he could wrench from her was that she wasn't working on SPEW.

Ron couldn't begin to guess what was the matter. In fact, he didn't hit on it until one evening when Hermione dropped into the common room where he and Harry were studying. Ron stretched idly, happy to see her sitting beside him, even if the dusty smell of books still lingered on her robes. However, Hermione did not greet him or even acknowledge his presence. She said, "I want to talk to you, Harry."

From the business-like way in which she spoke, Ron could easily guess what was coming next. Probably, more blabber about Ginny and the O.W.L.S.. Ron clutched his quill more tightly, determined once more not to participate.

"What about?" asked Harry, dreading the exact same thing.

Hermione drew herself up with a sniff. "The so-called Half-Blood Prince."

Ron and Harry both groaned.

"Will you please drop it?" Ron heard Harry say. Ron heartily agreed with him, and wondered whether this was what Hermione had been doing all week while in the library. He had almost forgotten the Prince, for Harry had not gone back to get the book from the Room of Requirement and thus in Ron's mind it had ceased to be a concern.

But Hermione had brought it up and was now insisting that she knew the identity of the Prince, even though Ron had no idea what knowing _who_ had owned the book before would be of any importance to a person who really wanted to use it. Dutifully, he leaned over to look at the newspaper article that Hermione had just slapped down on the table.

It displayed a girl a bit younger than himself, not particularly pretty and completely unimpressive. Whoever she was, she looked unhappy. Ron glanced at the caption long enough to see that the girl's name was "Eileen Prince." He skimmed the article for a while before his neck got tired and he got bored. Then Ron sank back into his seat and attempted to read the fascinating blurb in his book about Galloping Mushrooms and their many unconventional uses. It seemed to him that Hermione, not Harry, was the one who was obsessed with the Prince. Ron was irritated that Hermione had wasted so many evenings that they might have spent together researching this stupid Prince girl when Harry had all but forgotten his Potions book. Now Harry would probably retrieve it just to spite her.

Meanwhile, Hermione's talk with Harry was not proceeding as she would like it to. She got up from the table and ran off for the library. Ron watched her go, feeling more slighted than ever that she hadn't said good-bye.

"She's just never got over you outperforming her in Potions," he said, believing it completely. He felt strongly that Hermione was simply trying to take Harry down a notch, maybe by proving his hero was actually a girl or simply by showing Harry that she knew more about the book than he did.

"You don't think I'm mad, wanting that book back, do you?" asked Harry beside him.

"Course not," said Ron. "He was a genius, the Prince. Anyway…without his bezoar tip…I wouldn't be here to discuss it, would I?"

Yet Ron couldn't help thinking of Harry coming in through the portrait smeared with blood, outstretching his hand... "I mean, I'm not saying that spell you used on Malfoy was great —"

"Nor am I," said Harry, cutting him off.

From there the conversation turned towards Harry's detentions, and Ron thought of Hermione, slaving away in the library for a hopeless cause. Harry would never admit that keeping the book had been a bad idea. It was enough that he had not gone to retrieve it. Ron hoped that if he could make Hermione understand this, she'd stop going to the library so much.

Ron smiled at the prospect of having things back the way they had been before. He began to relive a few of his favorite moments alone with Hermione and barely noticed when Jimmy Peakes handed out a message to Harry from Dumbledore.

Harry left in a rush, and Ron closed his book and headed to the library. He didn't make it even halfway before he stumbled upon Hermione, who was sauntering through the corridor ahead of him, looking very tired indeed. She had apparently not made it to the library, and at the pace she had chosen, she wasn't likely to get there before tomorrow.

"Hey," he greeted her, jogging to the place she stood.

"Hey," she answered, barely looking up. She seemed glum, no doubt because of the earlier debate with Harry, so Ron put his arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. When he looked down to see what she was holding, he noted she still had in her hands the tattered article on Eileen Prince, the picture of whom was glaring up at him with a sour expression on her face that could rival Snape's. Ron laughed at the girl's pathetic gesture.

All of the sudden, Hermione pushed out of his arms and faced the wall in a pout. "It's _not_ funny, Ron."

He balked with exasperation. "What did I do now?" he said.

Hermione gaped at him. "What did you do? You just…you…" she sputtered.

"All I did was laugh."

This statement caused Hermione to grow redder than before. She wheeled on him faster than a whirling dervish. "But that's just it, don't you see? The only thing you ever do is laugh at me! You could have defended me," she spat. "I know I'm only your _girlfriend_, but surely you could have supported me."

"About what, the Prince?" he cried, absolutely incredulous that she was asking him to take sides against Harry. None of them had ever dragged the third person into an argument solely involving the first and second. It didn't matter if Hermione was his girlfriend or not.

"Ginny defends Harry all the time!" shouted Hermione. "The least you could do is look interested in what I say about the Prince. You don't have to scoff or roll your eyes the way you do."

Ron couldn't recall a single instance in which he had rolled his eyes at Hermione. And why did she care so much what Ginny did? Hermione wasn't going out with Ginny.

"Why do you care so much about the Prince?" demanded Ron. "Does it really matter _who_ he is?"

"Or _she_," insisted Hermione.

"Or _she?_"

"Yes, Ron, I'd say it does because we both know that Harry is just using this book because he thinks it's a link to his father."

"What!" cried Ron. "He never said anything like that! He…"

"He said his father used one of the spells in the book."

"But that doesn't mean Harry actually believes that the Prince was his father. You're just trying to make him feel bad about using it because…"

"Don't tell me that I'm just jealous of Harry's Potions grade!" Hermione stomped on the stone. She was crying now, which stopped Ron in an instant. He felt like an oaf for making her cry, even if he didn't think he'd done anything wrong.

"Stop crying," he mumbled, wanting her to stop and be happy so they could go snog somewhere like he'd originally planned.

"You never take me seriously," she sniffed. "You and Harry both. He never listens to me. Not this year about the book or last year about Sirius... What use am I at all if Harry won't listen and goes to get himself in trouble anyway?"

Something snapped into place then. Ron suddenly felt that he knew why Hermione was jealous of Ginny and why she was so angry about Harry's refusal to listen. And all this talk about how Hermione was Ron's girlfriend? Maybe that was just to make Harry jealous. After all, she'd used Cormac McLaggen to anger him. Hermione wasn't above subterfuge. So after everything, Ron felt like a pawn.

He meant to say something really nasty to Hermione to make himself feel better. Or maybe tell her it was over between them and they could still be friends, but when he looked up at her and saw her reddened eyes and the tears streaming down her face Ron couldn't believe she'd really used him. He was just being ridiculous again. He remembered the last time he'd seen her crying this hard, when she'd been sitting at his bedside in the infirmary.

Maybe girls made you weak, thought Ron as he moved to embrace Hermione. She turned in his embrace and leaned her head on his shoulder, still crying softly. Yes, maybe girls made men weak, but Ron didn't care.

"I wonder sometimes why I bother, but Ron, how can I not?" Hermione asked him. "I have to worry about these things because…because Harry never will."

Ron sighed and just held her, feeling both awkward and scared to have Hermione so close. But at the same time, he felt incredibly happy. His anger over her accusations was forgotten. It seemed she had only wanted someone to listen.

"Just because you can't make Harry listen doesn't mean you shouldn't try," he conceded at last. "I mean, you could be right about the Prince. He could be a she."

"You don't really believe that," she said, pulling away and wiping at her face.

"Well…no."

He expected the fight to begin anew, but to his surprise, Hermione remained quiet. "Do you think I'm mad, harassing Harry about the book all the time?"

"Well…" Ron began, searching for the correct answer. It was the second time today that he'd been asked to comment on someone's sanity. "Not _mad_…"

"But you think I should leave off, don't you?"

"Er…yes?" answered Ron, cautiously. "Harry hasn't gone back to get the book, you know."

Hermione considered this for a moment. She sniffed again and wiped at her eyes. "Okay."

Ron was confused. Was this some sort of acceptance of his advice? He didn't think it was possible that Hermione would take his advice. Maybe she was only pretending to take his advice, but she was really plotting to take matters into her own hands. Ron pictured her searching for the Room of Requirement in order to find the Potions book and burn it.

"But you know," he quickly amended his earlier statement, "that doesn't mean you shouldn't worry about Harry because he does do some stupid stuff once in a while, like getting detentions before a match or pissing off sadistic teachers."

"Okay," she said again, but this time she was smiling.

-----

That evening as Ron sat with Hermione in the common room, Harry burst through the portrait looking panicked. He flew past them and up the stairs to the dormitory while Ron shared a look with Hermione. The words "stupid stuff" echoed through his mind.

Harry reappeared a minute later and explained. "I've got to be quick. Dumbledore thinks I'm getting my Invisibility Cloak. Listen, I'm going with him to find one of the Horcruxes."

"Wha…" said Ron, startled by the suddenness of the announcement. "Right now?"

But Harry blustered on, "He wouldn't listen to me about Snape and Malfoy, but I ran into Trelawney and she said she heard whooping. That means something good just happened to Malfoy, and his plan… No, Hermione, I _know_ he's up to something. And Dumbledore keeps talking about the Horcrux and how I have to obey him and stay invisible even if he's in danger, and I don't know how long this is going to take."

"Why go now?" Ron interrupted him again.

"…so you see what this means? Dumbledore won't be here tonight, so Malfoy's going to have another clear shot at whatever he's up to."

Hermione shook her head. "Harry, I don't think that Malfoy…"

"_No, listen to me!_ I know it was Malfoy celebrating in the Room of Requirement. You've got to watch him and you've got to watch Snape too. Use anyone else who you can rustle up form the D.A…."

Ron just stared numbly down at the Marauder's Map that Harry had shoved into his hands. He cared less about Malfoy than he did about Dumbledore's orders to Harry that he should obey even if Dumbledore's life were in the balance. His mission must be dangerous, then. Perhaps Ron would never see Dumbledore again. Perhaps Ron would never see Harry again. But surely Dumbledore would not take a student on a dangerous mission… He wouldn't, would he?

"I haven't got time to argue," Harry was saying. "Take this as well —"

Ron felt a ball of socks being shoved into his hand. "Thanks. Er—why do I need socks?"

"You need what's wrapped in them, it's the Felix Felicis. Share it between yourselves and Ginny too. Say good-bye to her for me. I'd better go, Dumbledore's waiting."

Ron couldn't muster a good-bye for himself. How was he supposed to say good-bye for Harry? What would he tell Ginny if Harry died?

He stared at the ball of socks even as Harry swept out the door. Beside him, Hermione was shaking. "He wouldn't let us go," she whispered.

"Should we follow him?" asked Ron.

"No. It doesn't sound like Dumbledore wants us there. He would have told Harry to bring us."

Ron threw the potion to the floor angrily. Still rolled up in the socks, it bounced a little and came to rest at Hermione's feet.

"What are we supposed to do here? Malfoy isn't really planning anything," said Ron. "Not anything that requires this, at any rate." He motioned to the socks.

Hermione said nothing, but took the map from him and tapped it. "Malfoy isn't on here," she said, quietly. "Snape is in his office. They're not together, at least."

"Do you think Harry's right?"

Hermione tapped the map again and folded it up. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to make sure."

A silent understanding passed between them. Ron nodded. "I'll fetch Ginny from the library. You round up the rest of the D.A."

-----

**PsychoHaired**: Oh, I think every 17 year girl who is in love with a boy is the type of girl to sneak off and snog.

**NormalGirl**: Well, ok, I'll admit, it's not really as if I _like_ criticism. I don't wake up in the morning and think, "Oh gee, I hope people found something in my stories that they didn't like! How many spelling errors can I fix today?" Criticism is always painful. However, when it is fair and intelligently put (or if there is in fact a typo), I appreciate it. Although, I do have that automatic two second reaction where I think, "WHAT!" Then I have to think about a comment for a while to see whether I'm in denial about something or whether I was right to begin with.

**lalaine**: I don't know about a sequel. I was actually thinking about a project about the Black girls: Bellatrix, Narcissa and Andromeda. I started thinking about it after watching a documentary on A&E about the Charles Manson girls. Yes yes, I realize that's not as interesting as Ron and Hermione, but if I do anything with Harry Potter before the school year begins, that'll probably be it.

**Abvi**: I'm confused. You're not an R/Hr shipper? That's ok. I suppose I'm still a D/Hr shipper, although I don't like Draco much in the books. I'd be sad if any guy who behaved like him snagged a good girl like Hermione. I like AU Draco, where he reforms and becomes good. Also, I don't mind long reviews. I hope you like this latest chapter.


	9. The Battle By the Stair

Author's Notes: Okay, I lied. One more chapter and then an epilogue. I didn't realize the fighting would take up so much room.

The Battle By the Stair +

-----

A scant fifteen minutes had passed since Harry's abrupt departure and already it was difficult for Ron to muster the same sense of readiness he had felt when Harry had shoved the ball of socks into his hand and told him to prepare for the worst. The news of Dumbledore's mission had been unsettling at first, but now Ron wasn't sure what the fuss was. Dumbledore went on missions all the time, and if he was taking Harry then what he was doing couldn't possibly be dangerous. Yet Ron had told Hermione he would get Ginny and that was exactly what he was going to do. Just in case Malfoy really was planning to do something bad. After all, Harry had been right before. _And also tragically wrong…_ Ron reminded himself.

Outside the common room nothing was different than it had been an hour before. The corridors of Hogwarts held their usual amount of traffic for the evenings, with frenzied Fifth and Seventh Years bustling to and fro on the way to the library to study for their exams. A few seemed to be returning, their books hoisted high over their shoulders and others were obviously in search of the kitchens where they might find an evening snack. These suspicious characters were the ones tapping the walls with their wands, only to hide them away every time Ron rounded the corner. The glint of his Prefect's badge inevitably caused any mischievous Fifth Year to quickly pocket his wand under the guise of having an itch under his sleeve. Little did these students know, but Ron not only knew where to find the kitchens, but he had visited them himself. And if he were not in such a rush, he might have been willing to direct his hungry schoolmates to their desired destination.

Unfortunately for them, Ron was in a rush. He passed by everyone without giving them more than a second's glance, even when he saw a Ravenclaw sticking what appeared to be a dungbomb behind the bust of Phineas Nigellus. He swept into the library and began scouring the tables for his sister. The entire library was dark except for the lamps set at each desk, which made it difficult to see peoples' faces. Ron had never understood why people preferred to study in the library over their own, better-lit common rooms, but many did and Ginny was one of the many. He initiated his hunt with some haste.

The urgent way in which he conducted his search produced a few startled outcries and numerous glares expressing the greatest annoyance. Apparently, people did not like it when Ron pulled their faces out of their books so he might have a good look at them. In this manner, he found Ginny, who was buried in her Herbology textbook.

"Ouch!" she hissed, for Ron had pulled her collar too tightly against her neck while trying to discern her identity.

When she faced him, her irritation faded first into surprise to find her brother standing in front of her and then back into irritation.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered. Despite her hushed volume, a few nearby students glared at her. Ron was suddenly aware that all eyes were on them and that they could probably hear what he would say. He couldn't tell Ginny about Horcruxes and diabolical plans in front of every student studying in the Section for Magical Uses of Yams.

"Could you come with me?" he requested, hoping Ginny wouldn't set her hands on her hips as he fully expected her to do and refuse to comply until he explained himself fully.

"Why?" she asked. Her hands weren't on her hips, but Ron suspected they would have been had Ginny been standing.

"It's about Harry," he said.

Ginny rolled her eyes, no doubt expecting another one of his treatises on proper snogging etiquette. She said, "You're not going to lecture me about how I'm spending too much time with him are you, because Hermione already…"

"No, it's —" Ron stopped her quickly. He looked back and forth to find ten pairs of eyes centered in on the conversation. Each pair was quietly furious. One person got up from her bench, possibly to alert Madam Pince of the disturbance. Ron felt himself turning red from embarrassment. Briefly, Ron wondered whether Ginny might not have been better off staying with Dean Thomas. If she were still going out with Dean, Ron would not be fetching her now when she ought to be studying, nor would he be about to tell her that her boyfriend was off on some dangerous mission with Dumbledore. Since Dean Thomas was not obsessed with avenging the murder of his parents, he would probably never have left Ginny's side. Anyway, they would have been too busy snogging behind corners…

Ron shook the unpleasant memory from his mind, deciding ultimately that Ginny was better off with Harry, even if that had led to Ron currently being shot to pieces with angry glares from his classmates.

"Look, could you just come with me please?" he begged her. "I'll explain everything on the way back to the common room."

"But I have to study —" Ginny protested, and then trailed off when she at last noticed the seriousness of his tone. "Is this very important?"

"Yes," said Ron.

Ginny closed her book without further protest and followed Ron out of the library, easily matching his brisk pace. When they had almost reached the exit, Ginny began to outstrip him until it was she who was dragging him outside rather than the other way around.

She hauled him to a secluded alcove down the hall and asked, "All right, tell me. This had better be good."

"Harry's gone with Dumbledore."

Ginny just looked confused. "You mean he's at one of his lessons, right?"

Ron shook his head.

"But he's somewhere at Hogwarts…?"

Before he could answer, Ron heard the hurried patter of footsteps followed by the familiar voice of Luna Lovegood. "Oh, I'm so glad I found you!" she cried, hurrying up to them. She was lugging her books over her shoulder and had obviously come from the library. "I just felt my D.A. galleon go hot and I looked down to see that we're having a meeting, but I didn't know where to go."

Ron didn't know where to go either. He had just assumed that he would go back to the common room. "Do you know where Gryffindor Tower is?"

"No," said Luna with a frown. "Not exactly."

With a sigh Ron said, "All right, then put your things away and meet us back here as quick as possible. We'll take you there."

When she had gone, Ginny grabbed the sleeve of Ron's robes and jerked him around to face her. She was breathing hard, almost panicked. "Why are we having a D.A. meeting? Where's Harry?"

"He left Hogwarts on a mission with Dumbledore."

She let out a little gasp, but Ron kept going. "He asked us to spy on Malfoy and Snape while he's gone. Hermione is gathering the D.A. I'll explain the rest when Luna gets here so I'll only need to go over it once."

"Did he give you any messages for me?" she asked. Ginny's face was stricken with such fear that Ron realized for the first time how deeply his sister cared for his friend. He had never seen this vulnerability before and it made him pray that he would never need to find Ginny in order to tell her anything worse about Harry than what he was telling her now.

Ron pondered her question for a moment. Finally he answered, "He said to tell you good-bye."

Ginny accepted this with a slight nod. She lowered her eyes to the floor and did not speak even when Luna returned five minutes later. Ron watched her carefully on the walk back to Gryffindor Tower, but was unable to tell whether she was angry, hurt or afraid. He supposed that if he were in her position, he would be feeling all three.

Luna, however, did not seem to notice Ginny's expression. She was practically skipping down the hall, completely unable to contain her joy at being called to a D.A. meeting. She asked questions on the way, and Ron filled both the girls in as he had promised. The corridors were somewhat emptier, but a few students still passed them by and so Ron cast the _Muffliato_ spell.

Luna did not appear as shocked by Harry's distrust of Professor Snape as Ginny did. "My father always said Professor Snape was a suspicious character. I suspect that he's come up with a dangerous cross-breed of Cornish Pixie and Blast-Ended Skrewt and that's what he uses to terrorize Ernie MacMillan during the detention everyone says he refuses to talk about."

Neither Ron nor Ginny commented on this, and as it was one of Luna's tamer suppositions, Ron barely felt his usual amount of amused indignation that accompanied her theories. Ginny didn't acknowledge the comment with so much as a blink. She was uncharacteristically quiet, off in her own world that consisted solely of Harry and herself. The only thing she said during the walk was muttered under her breath and sounded something like, "…He never told me…"

When they reached the vicinity of Gryffindor Tower, the two of them left Luna to wait in one of the abandoned classrooms by the Tower before going through the portrait to find Hermione.

She was sitting on the couch near Neville Longbottom when they greeted her.

"Hey," said Neville, looking from Ron to Ginny and finally at his shoes when no one answered. Ron was scouring the rest of the common room with his eyes, hoping to see someone else.

"No one else from Gryffindor has come down," said Hermione. "And I suppose the ones from other houses don't know where to meet us. Oh, I should have charmed those coins to reveal the meeting place too, but I had always thought we'd be in the Room of Requirement."

"Luna came with us," said Ron. "She's waiting in the abandoned classroom across the hall."

"Good," said Hermione. "Let's go there, only someone should wait here in case someone else comes."

"No one is going to come," said Ginny, blankly. "Most of the D.A. members stopped carrying their coins last year. They won't even realize you've called."

So they trekked across the hall and found Luna. Taking their seats on the tables, Ron studied the small crowd gathered. Hermione, Ginny, Luna, Neville. It was the old crowd that had gathered, the core group from last year. Each and every one of them had fought together at the Department of Mysteries when Sirius had died. Would another tragedy befall them tonight?

_No_, thought Ron, hastily. _Because Malfoy probably isn't planning anything and all the really dangerous stuff is happening wherever Harry is._ _Maybe…_

"So, do we all know why we're here?" began Hermione.

Ginny, Luna and Neville all nodded.

"Then we should divide up into two groups so we can watch both the Room of Requirement and Snape."

"Won't it seem kind of odd for us to be waiting in clusters by Snape's office?" asked Ron. "A lot of people are still up and about, mostly Fifth and Seventh Years from the looks of it."

"Yeah," said Neville. "Maybe we ought to wait until it's clearer before we go."

Ginny's head shot up. "If Harry wants us to spy on Malfoy and Snape, then we had better start as soon as possible."

"Well, maybe we should check to see where Malfoy is again," offered Ron. "We don't want to go guard some place where he isn't."

Hermione handed the map to him. "Take it. I'll go with Luna to watch Snape. He's not likely to leave his office any time soon."

Ron regarded the map with a frown. He didn't like the thought of separating from Hermione. The idea made him uneasy, and suddenly he felt less sure that Malfoy wasn't up to something. He shuddered as he pulled out his wand.

"I solemnly swear I'm up to no good," said Ron, tapping the map. The corridors of Hogwarts slowly appeared over the parchment, but Malfoy's dot did not appear along with them. His eyes darted left and right over the page, but they could come to no other conclusion.

"He's not on here, so we'll have to split up after all," he declared.

"Take Ginny and Neville," directed Hermione. "We'll all leave directly."

They hurried down the corridor together for as long as they could, and then when they reached the point where their paths must separate, they came to a halt. Everything around them was silent. No students passed by on their way to the library. Mrs. Norris didn't make an unwelcome appearance. Peeves was unaccounted for. The candlelight in the hall had dimmed to an eerie nighttime glow. In the corner by one of the torches, Ron sighted a fly as it flew into a spider's web and became entangled. It struggled for barely a second before lapsing into an unnatural stillness, yet the spider did not emerge to see its prey. Ron's ill ease grew. From here on in whatever happened was anybody's guess. Ron was nearly certain that nothing terrible would happen, and yet he couldn't entirely convince himself of this. Nor could he shake the thought that if they were indeed going to their deaths, they weren't all going together.

Ron looked at the stairway that would take him to the Room of Requirement. Neville and Ginny had already ascended half way. Hermione sent Luna on down the corridor, leaving Ron alone with her for the time being.

"This isn't good-bye, you know. Don't look so sad" said Hermione, trying her best to appear carefree. Ron was not fooled, however, especially not when Hermione took his hand and pressed something soft into it, which he realized instantly was the sock with the Felix Felicis.

"Did you take any?" he asked her. But when he looked up, she was already bounding down the hall after Luna and did not answer him. With nowhere else to go, Ron turned around and climbed the steps as quickly as he could in order to catch up with the others. He found them a little ways on, huddled in a doorway across the hall from the Room of Requirement. Their wands were out and trained on what they knew to be the Room's exit, as if they expected someone to come out at any moment. Of course, no one did come out.

They waited perhaps thirty minutes, staring endlessly at the unseen door to the Room of Requirement. Every minute or so Ron checked his watch. Seconds ticked away like minutes, and all their arms were getting sore from holding them up. Neville sighed and put his arm down. Ron followed soon after. Only Ginny remained alert.

When Ron looked down to see that almost forty minutes had passed since their arrival, he said, "Maybe there's no one in there." He was beginning to worry about Hermione and Luna camped out in front of Snape's office. Even if nothing sinister was happening here, who wasn't to say that Snape hadn't given the girls detentions for spying on him or for attempting to rob his supplies.

"I'm not leaving, if that's what you mean," hissed Ginny. Ron and Neville shared a glance, but returned to watching the door. Within ten minutes, however, Ginny too had ceased to keep careful watch. She sagged to the floor and rested her back against the stone arch with a tremulous sigh. Ron wondered whether he oughtn't go down to find Hermione.

Just then, when no one was looking or particularly interested in looking for Malfoy, the sound of a latch lifting brought them to alert. Ron seized his wand tighter and held it at the ready. But just as the door was beginning to swing open, Ron realized he had no idea what he was going to do. Should he stupefy Malfoy? How would he explain that to McGonagall? Or Snape? They might take away his Prefect's Badge or give him twenty million detentions for fighting in the hallways. This situation required more thought, more planning than he had given it. He couldn't just hex Malfoy right here in the middle of the school. And Malfoy was a fellow Prefect, so he couldn't assign him detention. He held his breath, waiting.

_What would Hermione do?_

All of the sudden it was too late to think of what Hermione would have done, because Malfoy was standing in the hallway. He had closed the door to the Room of Requirement behind him and was looking in the opposite direction. But whenever he brought his head around, he would see Ron and the others peering at him with their wands drawn.

_Now, Ron_. _You must act now._

But it was too late. Malfoy had seen him. With a gasp, Malfoy jumped back. He was clutching his arm, but after seeing Ron he released it and reached into the folds of his robes.

"Get out of here, if you know what's good for you, Weasley," hissed Malfoy.

At last, Ron pointed his wand and yelled, "Stupefy!"

But Malfoy ducked out of the way and pulled something from his pocket. He threw it at the stones and yelled, "TARTARUS!"

Everything went black in an instant.

From somewhere, Neville shouted, "_Petrificus Totalus!_"

Ron heard Ginny's Bat Bogey Hex and felt a stream of heat slash his ear.

"Stop! You're going to hit one of us!" he said, holding up his hands, even though no one could see him.

"Lumos!" cried Ron, but nothing happened. "Lumos! Incendio!" Again, nothing happened. For a moment, Ron wondered if Malfoy had not blinded him. Then he realized that Malfoy must have used Fred and George's Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, which meant they were stuck in this blackness for at least an hour.

"Blimey," he began, turning to where he thought the others were. "Fred and George…"

"_Sssh_," hissed Ginny. "Someone's coming."

Suddenly two pairs of arms (Ginny's and Neville's) grabbed him and dragged him down the hallway toward another door. They huddled together in the darkness, listening to the harsh clink of boots upon the stone. There were several pairs of feet that sounded as they left the Room of Requirement one by one.

"Well done, Draco," cooed a woman's voice. Not a girl's voice or a boy's voice Polyjuiced into a girl's. _A woman's voice._ Beside him in the alcove, Neville's hands clutched Ron's arm so tightly that it hurt.

But why did Neville care so much if…?

Ron felt the blood drain from his face as he understood what Malfoy had done. Harry had been right to suspect him because this was not just any prank that the Slytherins had pulled off. Malfoy had managed to lead the Death Eaters straight into Hogwarts.

The woman whose voice they had heard was Bellatrix Lestrange. _And Malfoy knows we're here. He'll tell!_

Ron looked around for Ginny and Neville, but he could see absolutely nothing. He only knew they were there because he could feel their hands on his sleeve and hear their breathing. The Death Eaters would find them, and they wouldn't be able to see them coming. Ron just couldn't believe how right Harry had been! _My God, we're going to die_, thought Ron. But miraculously the sound of the footsteps receded.

Just then Ron remembered the sock in his pocket. He pulled it out and unrolled it, grabbing the potion and uncorking the top. He took a swig and fumbled for Ginny's hand. "Take a sip of this and give the rest to Neville," he whispered.

"What is it?" asked Ginny. Her hands were trembling as he handed it to her. Ron hoped that she wouldn't drop it.

"Harry's lucky potion," said Ron, who was beginning to have the sudden hunch that he should go towards the Death Eaters instead of _away_ from them.

When Neville had taken his sip, Ron urged them forward. "We'll go this way," he said, pulling their arms to point in the direction he wanted them to go.

"I don't feel very lucky," said Neville.

"Nonsense," replied Ginny. "You remembered not to trip over the stair. Now be quiet in case someone hears."

Ron kept one hand on the wall and followed its curve, wincing when he felt his hand run over a spider's web. When he thwacked his head on the base of one of the torches, Ron had no choice but to put his wand away so he could hold one hand in front of him in order to feel for obstacles. A bit of hot wax had landed on his forehead, meaning the torches were still burning despite the darkness. Even fire was of no help to them.

For some distance they continued in the dark until at last they sighted a wan glow emanating from an intersection up ahead. Ron began to race to it, pulling his wand from his pocket so he could…

Just then he stopped. What was he planning to do? Fight off a dozen Death Eaters on his own? He wasn't feeling that lucky.

Ron swept into another doorway, and the others joined him soon after. Suddenly they heard voices up ahead. He clutched his wand tighter.

"They're coming back," gasped Neville.

Ron eyed the hallway straight ahead of them, one possible escape route. They could go back the way they came, but they wouldn't be able to see in order to defend themselves. The three of them huddled together in the alcove, eyeing the corridor directly across from them even as they heard the cold clack of their enemies' boots echoing from up the hall that crossed their means of escape.

"Can we make it?" whispered Ginny next to him.

Ron peered out of the alcove to see the ominous shadows of men stretching out in the eerie glow like crooked fingers on a skeleton raking the stone walls. He pulled back to the safety of the alcove just as the shape of a boot appeared around the bend in the hall, breathing hard as a thousand possibilities whirled through his mind. With each passing second the number of possibilities shrank until at last Ron saw only one course ahead of him. _Well, I guess I wasn't put in Gryffindor for nothing_, he thought sadly. Ron thought of Hermione, waiting by Snape's office, unknowing of his peril. Then he paid a silent farewell to his sister and to Neville. "Go!" he insisted. Then he hurled himself into the corridor with a war cry.

He charged forward, still screaming, with his wand held high and "Impedimenta" on his lips, when he found himself face to face with a very startled Lupin, Tonks and Bill.

"Oh," said Ron, stopping at once and lowering his wand. Even though they had ruined his dramatic moment, he was quite pleased about not having to go through with his heroic death.

"Ssshh!" hissed Bill. "Are you alone?"

"No, the others are down this way."

They hurtled into the corridor where Ginny and Neville had gone and ran after them.

They caught up soon enough, for the others had stopped to huddle in the doorway to a classroom when they heard footsteps behind them.

Ron felt several pairs of arms latch onto him and sweep him into a classroom.

"Oi, Neville!" he cried, holding his hands up in a pathetic sort of shield from the hexes his friends were about to reign in on him.

"It's Ron!" exclaimed Neville, offering him an arm up. "It's all right."

"Ron?" cried Ginny from the window, where she had been looking out to see what was happening outside. She saw him and ran to him instantly, throwing her arms around him in a rare display of affection.

Ron grinned, pointing to Lupin, Tonks and Bill, who were just then entering the room, as a way of explanation.

She released him. "Thank God," she said.

"Why aren't you in Gryffindor Tower?" Bill demanded.

Ron told him what had happened. Lupin looked to Tonks, who was monitoring the activity outside the hall.

"No one is out here," she said. "McGonagall and Snape probably went after the Death Eaters, which means they'll need support as soon as possible."

"And you should get back to the dormitories," said Bill, pointing his finger in front of Ron's face. What would our mother say if she knew what you were doing?"

Before Ron could say a word, however, Ginny had stepped forward. "We're old enough to do as we like," she declared.

Ron was about to say something along the same lines, but Lupin interrupted him.

"Bill, we haven't got time for this. If they're determined to come, we can't stop them. They're better off with us."

Bill nodded and swept out the door behind Tonks. Ron didn't care whether he had his brother's approval or not. He would have followed him anyway. Ron, Ginny and Neville raced behind the adults for some distance. Ron noted that they were taking the shortest path to the Astronomy Tower.

He took the first flight of stairs two at a time, with Ginny and Neville panting behind him. When they reached the narrow landing, Ron swept around the bend, preparing for the next flight of steps when he saw a streak of red light and heard a cry from up above. Ron heard Lupin shouting, "Impedimenta!"

Ron looked up to see Lupin and Tonks bounding up the second flight of steps that led to a broader landing and the final flight of stairs that led up to the Astronomy Tower itself. He and Ginny and Neville moved to follow them, but before they had gotten halfway, Bill halted suddenly and Ron smacked into his back.

Bill swung around and grabbed Ron by the collar. "Stay here and cover us in case anything happens."

Dutifully, Ron and the others positioned themselves on the top step. Neville watched the stairs below, while Ron and Ginny trained their eyes on the landing. Tonks and Lupin were inspecting the two corridors, one veering off to the left and the other sharply to the right of the steps on which Ron waited. Bill was peering up the stairs that led to the Astronomy Tower.

He turned around slowly, as if sensing some present danger. Suddenly, a man appeared out of nowhere and leapt at Bill before Ron had the time to do anything. An Invisibility Cloak lay on the landing where the man had dropped it.

"Stupefy!" Ron shouted.

"Protego!" the man snarled. He dragged Bill by the neck to a pedestal sitting by the stairs and hunched over him, like vulture going after a corpse. Bill was screaming.

"Stupe —!" Ron was unable to finish because Ginny had pulled him out of the line of fire. Several Death Eaters had appeared in one of the corridors and were aiming curses at them. Tonks and Lupin were huddled together, leaning out to fire a curse whenever they had the chance, but Ron saw they were practically cornered. A massive Death Eater was waiting in the corridor, no doubt obscuring several of his comrades from view. Just in front of him stood a stout looking woman, who peered out from her hiding spot and began to taunt Ron. "Look, Greyback, it's the whole Weasley family!"

Greyback, the man who had savaged Bill, stood up and laughed. He seemed unconcerned that he was standing in the open, vulnerable to curses from every direction. He had blood dripping down his mouth, and Ron could see it was slathered all over his teeth when he smiled. Bill's groans of agony could still be heard from behind the pedestal.

Ron wanted to vomit, but he leaned forward to attempt another curse. But before he could, a red light shot at his head and he was forced to duck behind the stairs.

"Stay back, Ron!" cried Lupin from the corridor.

Greyback eyed Lupin as if he were pig manure. "I always knew you were not to be trusted, Lupin. You're too attached to these filthy humans of yours. You would have been better off with us, but now you'll pay."

The woman Death Eater was still jumping up and down. "Let's pick them off one by one."

Neville seemed keenly interested in this woman and he crawled over Ginny in order to see her. Ron realized that Neville thought this woman was Bellatrix, but she was not. In fact, Ron had never seen her before in his life.

"Look, it's little Longbottom!" she cried. "I've heard about you! _CRUC—"_

"REDUCTO!"

Whoever the woman was, was forced to duck back into hiding. Ron whirled around to see who had cast the curse and discovered Professor McGonagall racing up the steps far faster than a woman of her age ought to be able to do.

With McGonagall's arrival, the fight broke out in earnest. Ron launched a curse at one of the Death Eaters who was sprinting into the fray. He almost hit him, but the man was too quick. He went up the stairs past Greyback and was gone.

Ginny aimed a Bat Bogey hex at Greyback, who jumped away with glee.

"Go Draco, Go!" cried the woman. Greyback launched himself into the fray, shielding Malfoy as he ran up the stairs. Then, as if to call attention to their weakness, he scurried across the landing, dodging Lupin and Tonks' curses, and took shelter in the corridor.

"Someone's got to go after Malfoy!" cried Neville, who threw himself up the stairs even as McGonagall tried to pull him back.

"Mr. Longbottom, come back!"

But Neville would not listen and he lunged up the stairs only to fall backwards. A jolt of green light nearly hit him, but he managed to swerve away in time. Neville crawled to Bill's side where he was struck by a purple light aimed from the woman's wand.

"Neville!" cried Lupin, racing out after him, but Neville had slumped over Bill's body. Lupin tried to run up the stairs, but he too fell backward.

"Impedimenta!" cried Ron, aiming for the huge Death Eater. He missed, but succeeded in buying time for Lupin, who surely would have been hit by whatever curse the Death Eater had been planning.

Just then, one of the men who had run up the stairs came down. He saw Lupin lying on the stonework and pointed his wand.

"Stupefy!" cried Ginny and Ron at the same time, but their curses bounced off whatever forcefield was blocking the entryway to the stairs. The man saw them and ran straight at them, stepping on Lupin's hand on the way. This, however, was his undoing, for the large, blonde Death Eater had just aimed a Killing Curse at Lupin, but Lupin had taken the opportunity to wrench the man's feet out from under him. He fell into the curse and landed on the stonework, dead.

"Gibbon!" the woman screamed.

Lupin crawled back toward Tonks, using Gibbon's body as a shield. The larger Death Eater had emerged along with several others, who were no longer so afraid of being hit. They seemed to have been maddened by the fall of their comrade. Ron saw hatred and death in their eyes.

Curses were flying everywhere. Ron couldn't see anymore whether his were hitting their targets or not. It was only five against an ever increasing number of Death Eaters, several of whom had managed to get past the landing and were now racing up the stairs. The woman was one of them.

Just as he was about to send a curse flying in their direction, Ron felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Snape, towering over him. McGonagall was on her feet, trying to sum up the situation. "There's some kind of forcefield, Severus. Remus and Mr. Longbottom have both tried to get past already…" said McGonagall.

"Leave this to me," he said, and Ron heard the fearful resolution in his voice.

"Where's Filius?" she asked, but Snape didn't answer her. He merely strode over the landing, ignoring the curses flying by him, and went up the stairs without running into anything resembling a barrier. Neville stirred as Snape passed by, emitting a groan.

Evidently feeling heartened, Ginny pressed forward, aiming a curse into the corridor before ducking for cover near Tonks. The large Death Eater had almost hit her. Meanwhile, Lupin had emerged again and tried the barrier a second time with the same result as the first. He bounced off the barrier and was sent reeling to the floor.

"Stupefy!" shouted Ron, thrice over as he tried to cover Lupin. However, he couldn't get a good shot, and he knew that the Death Eater was aiming a Killing Curse.

"Remus!" cried Tonks, charging out of her hiding place. A bolt of red light shot from her wand. Ron ran out to cover her and managed to hit one of the Death Eaters. The remaining Death Eaters ran out of the corridor to meet them one on one. McGonagall emerged, taking one down only to face another.

The large Death Eater headed straight for Ginny.

"_Crucio!_" he cried, but Ginny must still have been under the influence of the lucky potion, for she dodged the curse easily. "_Crucio! Crucio!_"

"Reducto!" shouted Ron, but a Death Eater seized him by the arm, causing his aim to go awry. He managed to turn in the man's arms and brought his fist up to strike him hard along the jaw. He stumbled backward, clutching his neck.

"Petrificus Tota…"

"Protego!"

"Impedimenta!" cried Ron.

The Death Eater ducked and lunged for Ron's legs in order to throw him to the floor. Ron jumped out of the way. But as he did so, the roof above him began to tremble. Dust fell everywhere, followed by bricks.

"The roof!" cried McGonagall.

Ron didn't have time to cover himself, for his attacker had taken the opportunity to leap on top of him, wrestling him to the floor.

"SNAPE!" Ron cried, seeing his teacher emerge from the rubble. "HELP…"

But Snape did not hear him and Ron had to struggle on his own. The Death Eater was on top of him, pinning him to the stone. Ron thought he saw Harry streak by, but maybe that was just his addled, oxygen-deprived brain playing tricks on him.

"It's over!" someone shouted, but for Ron it was not over. The man sitting on top of him was reaching for his wand with one hand and choking him with the other. Ron could only hope that someone would see and would rescue him. Suddenly, the Death Eater released him and took off down the stairs, running after Snape.

Ron sat up, gasping. Slowly, he realized that all was quiet. He looked around to find McGonagall, Lupin and Tonks rounding up the fallen Death Eaters. It was indeed over.

Ginny sat in the corner by Bill and Neville was standing behind her, kicking at the rubble as if he were trying very hard not to be ill. Ron got up and rushed over, crying out when he saw his brother.

There was blood everywhere. On Ginny, on Bill. Ron looked down to see that he was standing in his brother's blood. He didn't know what to do, so he remained where he was, letting the blood soak into the bottom cuffs of his trousers as they dragged on the floor. And he looked at Bill's ruined face. He couldn't tell whether the eyelids were open or closed, for it was possible that he no longer had eyelids.

"Is he…?" but Ron didn't finish the sentence. He didn't want to hear the answer, nor did he want to know whether he would feel more sad than relieved to hear that his brother was still alive. It was a horrible thing to think, but as Ron stared down at his brother's mangled, nose-less face, he wondered whether it would not be better for Bill to die.

"Look," said Neville, which caused Ron to wheel around. He found Neville pointing to the ceiling. Ron was almost too numb to look up, but when he did he discovered that a large section of the roof was gone, revealing a blanket of stars. Only the night sky was no longer blue, but a sickening green, and suspended overhead, like a beacon to Hell, was the specter of the Dark Mark.

-----

**Leaviel**:I looked back at Chapter One and got rid of the pillow thing.

**Princessdza**: I looked back at Chapter Five and tried to figure out a way to put Hermione and Ron back in character. Upon reading it again and again, I decided you were right. I made a couple edits, but I'm not pleased with them. I don't think they changed anything, and I'm afraid that I made it worse. Don't go back and read it just yet. I just wanted you to know that I'm thinking about how to change it.

**PsychoHaired**: I think I finally understand now what you were saying about Hermione. I looked back at Chapter 7 and made a little edit so now Hermione is slightly more reticent about sneaking off to snog.

**Abvj**: Well, I hope you enjoy the little bits of Harry and Ginny that I stuck in this story. I, personally, was shocked that H/G happened in Book 6. I re-read Book 5 last week and realized there were clues, but I'd completely ruled out Ginny as a possibility. The H/Hr people had me thinking there would be a love triangle.

**Animeobsessed3191:** Yes, do, _do_ get your fanfic up!


	10. Ginny and Hermione

Author's Notes: If you're looking for some good R/Hr fanfic, check out a couple I've found:

Caring a Bit by Cedar – at www . Checkmated . com no spaces

Writing to Ron by Cinderella200 (It's under my favorites)

-----

Ginny and Hermione +

-----

Once in Third Year, Ron had seen Fang devour a ferret outside Hagrid's hut. The ferret, mercifully, had been dead, but that did little to stem the horror of witnessing blunt teeth ripping shreds of flesh from the poor animal's carcass. On that occasion Ron had averted his eyes. He had put it out of his mind, and had not thought of it since until now. Bill's misfortune had reminded him.

Ron was sitting only several doors down from the infirmary's main entrance in yet another out-of-the-way alcove, with his long legs sticking out in the hall. He had come outside to be alone. The tip of his finger was etching imaginary words into the coarse stone step on which he sat while waiting for Ginny to leave the infirmary. The words themselves didn't matter as he wrote them; Ron hardly knew what he was doing. What mattered was that he had a means of passing the time, but most importantly, that he was not within where he would have to try not to wince every time he looked at Bill's mutilated face.

It wasn't so horrible now that Bill had been in Madam Pomfrey's care for several hours. Most of his nose had been regrown, along with the missing chunk of his cheek, but Ron simply couldn't reconcile the memory of what had been there before with the reality of what existed now. Tomorrow he could deal with it, but not tonight.

In the meantime, Ron suddenly found himself unable to understand the concept of time. Bill had been whole and happy not four hours ago. He had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, but if he had just taken a step backwards or maybe if Ron had been able to hit Greyback with a curse, then this whole mistake would not have occurred. Why couldn't one simply go back and fix it?

Bill should have turned away a little faster. Lupin should have checked the landing more thoroughly. Ron should have saved a little lucky potion for his brother. If any of them had done one of those simple things…

And _Dumbledore_. The bile rose to his throat just thinking about Dumbledore.

He wished that Hermione had not left so that they might mourn together, but she had, and she even seemed eager to go. She'd gone up to the common room soon after Harry had departed with McGonagall, no doubt to relate the story in full to their housemates. Ron thought that perhaps he ought to have gone with her. Maybe no one would believe her story. Ron barely believed it himself, which seemed to be a fault of his. He hadn't believed Harry about Malfoy—or he hadn't believed that anything seriously bad could happen.

_You should have believed Harry_, he told himself. _You should have been quicker. You should have taken the potion sooner and then you might have thought of a way to stop Malfoy._

_You might not have hesitated._

_You might have…_

"Harry?" came Ginny's voice from close by. Ron could not see her yet, which meant she could not see him, but perhaps she had heard his idle scratching of the step. Yes, he was still scratching.

When she appeared before him, she had her wand held up as a ward against any hidden attacker. Upon finding him crouched awkwardly in the dusty corner, she lowered it.

"Oh," she said, both relieved and disappointed to see him. Ron saw that her eyes were even redder than they had been ten minutes ago when he had left her in the infirmary. "I hoped you were Harry back again. I thought you would have gone after Hermione."

Ron shrugged, barely noticing her assumption that he would be with Hermione. "I wanted to be alone for a while, and Hermione seemed to want the same thing."

"That's funny," said Ginny in a voice devoid of humor. "Isn't adversity supposed to bring people together?"

"Yeah," he answered, equally glum. "But I think that's only after people get tired of being alone with it."

She seemed to accept this, but for all Ron knew, Ginny was thinking about what a fool he was. Maybe she was wishing he'd vanish and be replaced with Harry, who would offer her greater wisdom gained from hard experience on how to cope with death. Maybe she was just wondering why Hermione had suddenly wanted to be alone, when two hours ago she had peppered Ron's face with kisses as he appeared, safe and sound behind Ginny and Neville.

Ron was wondering the same thing.

"Mum and Dad will want to say good bye," Ginny was saying.

Visions of Fleur shaming all of them by nobly accepting her fiance's fate flashed through Ron's head. His brow furrowed. "I'm not going back in there tonight."

"I know what you mean."

Ron took Ginny's proffered hand and allowed her to help him up. He followed her toward Gryffindor Tower, and neither one said a word about Mum or Dad or Bill or Fleur. For one full minute they walked on, talking about the state of the paintings in the hall or the likelihood of being caught by Filch, as if they were returning from something as mundane as a detention. Their hearts weren't in it, but neither one could bear a silence, and so they talked until they couldn't think of anything else that wasn't so light as to be disrespectful, but light enough to keep their minds off the evening's tragedy. Inevitably, the conversation turned to gossip.

"I saw the way you and Hermione looked at each other back in the infirmary," she said. "It's strange that she never told me you were going out." As an afterthought, Ron heard Ginny mumble, "She used to tell me everything."

"She didn't tell you?" asked Ron, who really didn't care at this moment what girls told other girls.

"No," Ginny answered. "No one tells me anything, it seems. Harry didn't even tell me anything about Malfoy's plot."

"Oh no?" replied Ron, unsurprised but feeling guilty nonetheless.

Ginny seemed to have mistaken his question for an apology, because very quickly she turned to him and said in a rush, "But I'm not blaming you or Hermione. It's not as if you could have done anything. I mean, you two didn't know that Malfoy was staging meetings either."

Ginny didn't notice when Ron stopped walking. They were at the base of Gryffindor Tower, almost to the portrait, and she was bounding towards the entrance when…

"Ginny?" he called after her. His throat felt swollen and his voice was strained.

She turned, then. Very slowly, and when she was faced him Ron knew she understood what was coming next. He could tell because she looked completely heartbroken.

"Harry did tell you?"

"Yes," said Ron.

"And…Hermione too?"

"Yes."

Ginny swallowed. "But not me." He saw tears rolling down her cheeks.

Ron wished she'd just scream at him. Screaming he could understand, but this uncharacteristic resignation of Ginny's was truly terrible. Ron felt like he was witnessing the total collapse of his sister's dreams, like the only shred of happiness she'd had left in her body was her unflagging trust in Harry. It was gone now.

"Why?" asked Ginny.

"I don't know why he didn't—"

Ginny held up her hand, "I know why Harry didn't tell me," she said. "I don't understand it, but I know why. But…why didn't you do something?"

Ron's mouth fell open. "What? Ginny, we went up to the Room of Requirement. Hermione watched Snape's office!"

"Oh, please! If Hermione puts her mind to it, she can do anything. She concocted that Polyjuice Potion in your second year…yes, I heard about that! And she spent all that time on that ridiculous House Elf Liberation Front. The D.A. was practically her brainchild!"

"Wait, are you blaming Hermione for all this!" cried Ron.

"Shouldn't I? She gives me all these lectures about how Harry's distracting me from my studies and what's important, and all this time —"

"Well, he _was_ distracting you, from what I hear!" Ron cut her off.

Ginny looked as if she might hit him.

"That's not the point!" she cried. "THE POINT IS THAT YOU AND HERMIONE ARE THE BIGGEST HYPOCRITES IN THE WORLD BECAUSE THIS WHOLE TIME YOU'VE BEEN POINTING YOUR FINGERS AT ME, YOU'VE BEEN SNEAKING AROUND OUR BACKS INSTEAD OF HELPING HARRY!"

Ron had to swallow that lump in his throat before he began to scream at her. "And if Harry had told you his suspicions about Malfoy, how do you know you would have done anything different! You would have just brushed it aside like the rest of us!"

"No I wouldn't have!"

"YES YOU WOULD!"

"NO, I WOULDN'T! I would have trusted Harry, because he's _Harry_. Because he's never let me down before…"

"It wasn't about Harry!" shouted Ron, barely able to refrain from mentioning Sirius last year or Hermione lying wounded on the floor of the Department of Mysteries. "It was about Malfoy, and how he's never been anything more than a stupid, slimy, two-faced git and how he's never been worth an _ounce_ of notice!"

_It was true_, Ron thought. Malfoy had always been up to something, but it had never been truly devious. For all his bluster and threats, he'd never shown any reason for concern. So it wouldn't have mattered if he and Hermione had analyzed his activities in Knockturn Alley or if they had organized the D.A. sooner or if they'd tied Snape to a chair because no one would have believed them when they said that Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater at the age of sixteen.

"Malfoy has **_always_** been dangerous!" Ginny screamed at him. "Just think how much trouble Malfoy was capable of causing last year with the Inquisitorial Squad, and this year when he left Harry on the train. But you were too busy with Lavender and Hermione, and Hermione was too busy with you and telling Harry and me what to do, and neither one of you did a single thing to stop this!"

Ron's eyes flashed. He could bear it no longer.

"Ginny, even _Dumbledore_ wouldn't listen to Harry! He told him to stop thinking about it. He told him to trust Snape and to forget about Malfoy, and maybe Harry didn't listen, but we did! So don't you, for one moment, think you're better than Hermione or me just because you've been snogging Harry for a month!"

Ginny looked as if he'd thrown a glass of cold water in her face. Her hand shot up to cover her mouth, apparently horrified that she'd said what she'd said. Her whole frame was trembling so hard that Ron was yanked out of his fury.

"I'm sorry," Ginny whimpered. Then she rushed away and up into the Tower. Ron saw that her disquiet was not the only reason that she had gone off so fast. Half of the Gryffindors had come outside to watch their debate. The noise they had made must have carried into the common room. Lavender and Parvati were on the top step, not giggling for once. Seamus and Dean stood a little ways apart with the Creevey brothers. And just below them, on the bottom step along with a gaggle of younger students, was Hermione, who looked pale and tired. She stepped aside as Ginny rushed past her, averting her eyes as if she were ashamed. Nor would she meet Ron's eyes as he barged through the crowd, even when he brushed her hand. She didn't take the hint to follow him, and Ron didn't stay to ask why.

Ron felt too sour and exhausted and went up alone to the boys' dormitories in order to sit down on his bed and wait for Harry's return. He didn't want to think any more about Malfoy or Bill tonight.

-----

No one mentioned the fight between Ron and Ginny in the following morning. Ginny behaved apologetically, but it was clear to Ron that she had no intention of reliving what had been said. That was fine with him because he wanted to forget it as soon as possible. He was too depressed by Harry's bad news, which he shared with Hermione before breakfast, that the mysterious R.A.B. had stolen the Horcrux.

"Dumbledore's sacrifice was for nothing," Harry finished. It was a sad moment when no one contradicted him.

For everyone else in Gryffindor Tower, the biggest news in the morning was that Parvati Patil's parents had appeared some time during the night and that she and her sister Padma were gone. During breakfast, Ron and the others noticed a number of other missing students. An uproar occurred when Seamus' mother strode directly into the Great Hall and demanded that he return home with her.

Seamus refused, of course.

Hermione had been staring at the unfolding drama for some time when she turned to Ginny and Ron. "Will your parents ask you to come home?"

"No," answered Ginny, quietly. "They understand that Hogwarts is probably safer than anywhere else in England other than the Ministry."

"Even though tragedies keep striking here anyway," muttered Ron, under his breath. He thought of the Basilisk in particular.

Across from him, Harry sighed. "They won't keep happening if I have anything to say about it," he said, looking distant for some time until Ginny nudged him.

"If Hogwarts closes, nothing at all will be happening here," she said.

Harry smiled at her, and Ron took the opportunity to glance at Hermione, who was staring at the untouched eggs on the plate with an equally distant expression on her face. She was probably upset at the prospect of Hogwarts closing.

Copying Ginny, Ron nudged her arm and was rewarded with a strained smile. He leaned over to kiss her on the cheek when he noticed that Harry was watching him. Instinctively, he stopped what he had been about to do. _But why?_ thought Ron. _Why would it matter if he saw? He's probably guessed by now anyway. _Ron tried to take Hermione's hand, but she pulled away before he could quite manage.

He gave up and began to chew his food, feeling sour.

"So," began Ginny, "I wanted to visit Bill again this morning. Does anyone want to go with me?"

"I'll go," said Harry, immediately.

"I'll be glad to go," said Hermione.

"Me too," Ron said at length. It might be easier to go back to the infirmary now that it was morning. Bill's wounds would probably be much better than they had been last night. And the news about Dumbledore was not quite as raw…

When breakfast was ended, they trudged off in the direction of the infirmary. On the way, they passed Zacharias Smith, who was waving good-bye to Ernie Macmillan and a few of his Hufflepuff classmates. When he saw Harry, he paused. Ron thought he would turn away with a disgusted snort, but to Ron's surprise, he held up his hand in farewell.

"They're dropping like flies," said Ron, watching Zacharias and his father depart.

Beside him Hermione gave an offended sniff. Ginny looked irritated as well. "Don't say that, Ron," she reprimanded him. Only Harry seemed amused by the comment.

"Sorry."

"He's going to miss the prefects' meeting," said Hermione, referring to the meeting that had been announced at breakfast earlier.

"What's the point of it all?" asked Ron, thinking of the suspended House Cup competition and postponed exams. Hogwarts seemed more like a hotel right now than it did a school.

"Keeping order in the school will be even more essential now that no one has classes than it was before," said Hermione, matter-of-factly.

"Waste of time, if you ask me," said Ron. "At this rate, half the students will have gone home by tomorrow."

"Well no one _is_ asking you, Ron," she snapped.

Ron blinked. He could never tell whether Hermione was teasing him or insulting him, but he didn't like her tone of voice. He wheeled on her, prepared with an equally sarcastic comment, when Harry came between them.

"C'mon guys, let's just go on the infirmary," Harry pleaded. Both he and Ginny looked exasperated.

When they reached the infirmary, Ron discovered that Bill was still sleeping. Fleur had gone downstairs to fetch him breakfast, and his parents had gone to eat for themselves. The morning visit was not a total waste, however, because Madam Pomfrey alerted them to the fact that Neville was wide awake.

Ron followed Hermione to his bedside, while Harry and Ginny lingered behind to fuss over Bill for a few minutes. Neville greeted them with a forlorn 'hello.' Ron saw that he winced as he tried to sit up straight.

"What did everyone say when they heard the news?" he asked, and by 'news,' Ron understood him to mean Dumbledore's death.

"Professor McGonagall made the announcement at breakfast, but everyone already knew the whole story," said Ron. "A couple got taken out of school by their parents. Parvati's gone."

"Seamus' mother wanted him to go too," said Hermione. "But he said he wouldn't go until after the funeral."

Neville hung his head. "My grandmother will probably want me to leave too."

"Well, you won't will you?" cried Ron. Hermione slapped his arm lightly in reprimand. Neville didn't notice.

"No," he answered, quickly. "I'm of age now and I can do what I want."

"Thanks for carrying around your D.A. galleon, Neville," said Hermione, biting her lip. "I was afraid that no one at all would respond."

Ron observed the uncharacteristic way she spoke, offering a comment and retreating into silence just as quickly. He deduced that something heavy was weighing on her mind, which meant that he would not find out about it until she was ready to tell him.

Harry and Ginny joined them several minutes later. Bill had apparently woken up and asked for a mirror.

"I thought we should wait for Fleur to come back before we give it to him," said Ginny, whispering so Bill could not hear her from across the room.

Ron glanced in his brother's direction and was pleased by what he saw. Bill's nose had been entirely re-grown, and his scars made him look a great deal like Mad-Eye Moody. The frightful ghost in bandages from last night was long gone. Bill looked cheerful, and beamed even more when Fleur walked through the door.

"You're awake!" she cried, setting down a tray of sausages and kissing Bill on his scarred cheek. "I went to get this because without me ze kitchen here would not do eet correctly."

Ron heard Ginny groan beside him. They all temporarily left Neville's side and walked over to Bill, who was impassively examining his face in the mirror.

"Not too bad," he said at last, setting it down, but he looked shaken nonetheless.

Fleur fed him a sausage.

"I 'ave 'eard of this Malfoy boy before, who caused this to happen to my Bill," she said to Hermione and Ginny, where were standing nearest to her. Her voice was venomous. "He uses a French name, no? I would be ashamed, except zat nobody would be fooled by zis. We French have no Dark Wizards. What do we care for purebloods or muggles? We are all French!"

Ron glanced at Harry, who simply shrugged. For now they would take Fleur's word on the matter, although Ron had trouble believing that France had never turned out a bad, Muggle-hating wizard.

"And half ze followers of You-Know-Who are half-bloods anyway," she went on. She fed Bill another sausage, which he ate ravenously. "Zey are all hypocrites, zat is what I think."

Hermione began to back away from the scene all of the sudden. "I just thought of something," she said. "I've got to go to the library."

Ron was surprised at her hasty exit. "Wait!" he called after her. "Don't forget about the prefect's meeting!" But she was already out the door.

Soon after Hermione's departure, Madam Pomfrey shooed the rest of them out so Bill could get some rest. Ron watched Ginny and Harry hold hands in front of him as they all walked back towards Gryffindor Tower. The unpleasant feeling of being a third wheel set over him, and Ron decided to part company with them so he could look for Hermione. He checked the library first, but his search was unfruitful. Hermione didn't seem to be anywhere: not in her favorite section behind the Arithmancy texts or in any other hidden nook. When Ron next checked his watch, he saw that fifty minutes remained until the Prefects' meeting.

Wishing to find her before the meeting, Ron stopped by Gryffindor Tower, but Hermione was not in the common room. However, Harry and Ginny were sitting on the couch (not snogging, since the room was too crowded) when he entered.

"We haven't seen her," said Harry, watching Ron closely. Ron turned a little red as he stepped back outside the portrait.

Hoping that Hermione had not gone up to the girls' dormitories where he could not follow, Ron headed towards the grounds outside. He rushed down to the lake, unsure of why he was bothering to remind Hermione of a meeting she had probably not forgotten about in the first place. He wanted to be with her, he supposed. He wanted to ask her if she was all right.

When he didn't find her immediately upon exiting the castle, he walked towards the lake in order to observe the preparations for Dumbledore's funeral. A few other students had come for the same purpose, but most of the people in the vicinity were Aurors, setting up wards and protection spells. Despite all the activity, there was a lonesome atmosphere about the place, like the very trees and stones had gone into mourning.

Just then, Ron spotted Hermione. She was sitting alone under the old beech tree, with her knees tucked under her chin, just watching the Aurors conduct their business. He hurried over to her and dropped down by her side.

"Hey," he said, playfully hitting her shoulder. Ron winced when he realized how pathetic it was to be play-hitting one's girlfriend. "I thought you were going to be in the library."

"I left," she told him.

"Oh, well, I just…er…wanted to remind you about the meeting. It's in half an hour."

Ron expected her to tell him that she hadn't forgotten, but all he got was a quiet, "Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

She sniffed loudly. Ron hunched forward so he could see her face and discovered that there were tears falling down her cheeks. She wasn't sobbing. It was a gentle cry, the kind people had when their misery was too great for sound to convey.

"What's wrong?" he asked her.

Hermione wiped at her eyes. "I can't believe he's gone," she whimpered.

Ron inched closer so that he could hold her, but Hermione pushed him away. _Why?_ he thought. He settled for patting her back, which he did awkwardly because he was afraid of being rebuffed again. He wanted very much to ask Hermione what she was thinking, and yet he was unsure of whether he wanted to hear her answer. Then he saw her averting her eyes and Ron felt his heart crumple. He knew what was coming next.

"We have to talk," she said.

_No..._ Ron gulped at the dreaded phrase. Most of his imaginary break-ups with Lavender had started off the same way, which left Ron with one question and one question alone: _Why was she doing this? _"No we don't." Ron tried to laugh it off. He even tried to get up, but before he could, Hermione caught his hand.

"I think maybe Ginny was right about what she said last night."

"No she wasn't," said Ron, standing up. "She was just angry because Harry never tells her anything!"

"She was right," Hermione insisted. She got up from the grass and looked him straight in the face. Ron wondered if this was even hard for her. "We distract each other… Or you distract me. There were so many things I could have done differently if I hadn't been so busy thinking about you. I could have organized the D.A. sooner… I could have helped Harry find a way into the Room of Requirement —"

"And what would that have done?" cried Ron. He wanted to shake her so hard that her brains rattled. How could she be saying these things? "Maybe it just would have gotten everyone in the D.A. killed. There wasn't enough lucky potion for all of us. And even if you'd managed to find out what was in the Room or Requirement Dumbledore knew about Malfoy anyway, so nothing would have changed."

"He didn't know that the Death Eaters could get in to Hogwarts!"

"Hermione, you can't do everything!"

Her chin began to shake. "Oh, Ron, there is a war going on!" she said. "And I couldn't even concentrate in the library. All I could think about was you..."

"Maybe that's because you felt guilty about wanting to ditch me," he spat. Ron backed away from her, shaking his head. His hands were trembling and his ears were buzzing. He was pretty sure that his heart was breaking. He turned away and began hurrying back to the castle.

"Ron?" she called after him.

"Leave me alone," he snapped.

"Don't go! Wait!"

He heard her running after him, saw the blur as she rushed by him so she was standing in front. Hermione threw her arms around him before he could brush by her. He refused to meet her eyes for fear he would shame himself by crying.

"I'm not ditching you!" she shouted, burying her face in his chest. Ron did not push her away, even though his legs were going so weak that he was unsure if he could support her weight. Hermione went on, fiercely clutching the fabric of his shirt, "Unless you want to ditch me now, but please...I just wanted a little break. I need to slow down for a little while, but please please please don't go away mad. Don't go off and snog other girls…"

"What! Why would I —?" Ron exclaimed. He allowed himself to feel indignation...mortification...but he didn't dare feel relief. He was having difficulty believing that this wasn't a break-up and that Hermione wasn't smashing all his dreams into cut-up, gnarled pieces of rubble. The whole relationship was simply too good to be true...and looking back on it, Ron realized that all those times he'd made excuses for why he didn't need to tell Harry about it were really poor attempts at easing the inevitable heartbreak when Hermione realized he wasn't good enough. Yet it seemed from the tears she was shedding and the desperate way she was clinging to him that Hermione hadn't realized this just yet.

"Well," she whispered, "You went and snogged me as soon as Lavender ditched you..."

"But you're not ditching me," said Ron, very quickly.

"...No," she said, "But...I just thought that maybe if you were mad enough..."

Ron pushed her away, a little more roughly than he'd meant to. "Who says I'm mad!"

"You're all red in the face," Hermione pointed out.

Ron huffed in frustration. He couldn't deny that she had him. His stupid, tell-tale face always turned red when he was angry, but Ron didn't want her to know he was angry with her because he'd thought she was ditching him. He didn't want her to realize how much power she had over him...and yet...it was kind of cute how she didn't want him to go snog other girls. Even so, what kind of horrible torture was this for her to make him think she was breaking up with him? Maybe he should go snog one, just to piss her off and get even... But Ron rejected this idea outright. She may be annoying and bossy, but Ron still didn't want to kiss anyone but Hermione.

"Ron?" she said, tentatively.

There she was, standing there looking concerned for her boyfriend, just like a girlfriend should, so able to read his emotions, when he never had any idea what she was thinking. It was irritating, that's what it was. And it was unfair how he was going to agree to this break, not because he thought it was a good idea or that it was necessary, but because Hermione had said that she needed one. He wasn't sure if he liked her ability to pull all his strings at once.

"FINE!" he shouted. "I'll agree to your stupid break and I _am_ really mad, but I'm not going to '_go off_' and snog anybody...including you!"

When he caught Hermione smiling, Ron added, "And I'm going up to the Prefects' meeting by myself!"

He stomped off toward the school, when he heard her call him one last time. "Ron?"

What did she want now? The rest of his masculinity? "What?" he demanded.

"I love you."

Ron wasn't sure he'd heard correctly. He almost asked her to repeat it, but in the end he just stuttered, "G...good." Did this mean he and Hermione were still on a break or that it had just begun? Should he say it back? Why wasn't she yelling at him because of his outburst? Girls were funny creatures.

He didn't notice that his feet weren't moving or that Hermione had slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. He barely realized that she was pulling him into the castle and up the steps.

When they reached the door to the room in which the meeting was being held, Ron finally snapped out of it. "Hermione?" he said.

She seemed a little nervous when she looked up. She was biting her lip.

_I love you I love you I love you... _he thought.

"Er..." Ron opened the door for her. "Ladies first."

Hermione beamed up at him. "Thank you, Ron," she said.

-----

More Author's Notes:

This chapter was impossible to write. I leafed through the book and thought, "There's nothing here. What do I do?" So I realized I had to dig myself out of this huge hole because I'd had Ron and Hermione get together so soon. Then, I started writing this huge break-up scene. I thought that I'd use the spot on page 635 (American edition) where Ron looks away from Harry and Ginny and Harry thinks he's trying to avoid looking at his sister. I was going to have Ron look at Hermione and think, "Why can't I do that to Hermione anymore?" But half-way through I realized that the time between Dumbledore's death and his funeral isn't very great. There's no time for a break-up and a reconciliation, and would Hermione really dump Ron? No... So, I kept having to scrap and re-write and scrap and re-write. This is what I had when the deadline rolled around. So now, had I written that scene with Harry and Ginny's kiss goodnight, Ron would be looking at Hermione and thinking, "When will I get to do that again?" However, this chapter was getting too long, so I didn't choose to write that scene.

I hope I didn't abuse Ginny too much in this chapter. Poor girl. Even so, I felt like there must have been some reason for her to expect Harry to break up with her. It seemed like everything had been going so well for the two of them and then BAM he dumps her and she just says, "Oh, fine. I knew that was going to happen."

**PsychoHaired**: Ta da! Your Weekend Update.

**SaSush33**: Yep, I mentioned Bellatrix even though I knew she wasn't there because I was trying to figure out a way for Ron and the others to figure out who was coming out of the Room of Requirement and to understand the danger without being able to see anything. I thought Alecto and Bellatrix probably sounded something alike. They behave the same way.

**Love That Elf**: I looked over Chapter 6 and made some changes, but I feel like it's completely unfixable. I tried to make the haste of Ron and Hermione's kiss have repercussions here, though.

**FetishFemale**: Action is hard to write. Whew! I'm glad you liked it.


	11. The Only One

Author's Notes: I apologize for the delay. The first week of school hit me like a hammer, and I've been reeling from the shock. Yes, this isn't undergrad, folks. Welcome back to grad school, Year Two.

The title of this chapter refers both to Dumbledore ("The Only One He Ever Feared") and to Harry.

-----

The Only One... +

-----

_It's nice to be loved_, thought Ron the day the commencement of "The Break." He was being sarcastic of course, because at the time he thought it, he was watching Hermione run towards the library and away from him. Deciding he would have to get used to this, Ron returned to the common room with a sigh and sat beside Harry and Ginny, who were holding hands. They seemed unaware of Hermione's absence, even though she had been gone for the most part of the past two days, or if they had noticed, then they didn't care that Hermione was always holed up in some dark corner of the library, collecting dust along with the books. After all, it wasn't wholly unusual for Hermione to be on her own in the library. There was no reason that Harry and Ginny should be suspicious, especially when there was so much to research: R.A.B., new spells to use in combat, etc. etc.. Ron, however, missed her more than ever before. Sometimes if he passed the library entrance, Ron would glance in and hope to see Hermione coming out to greet them. He would try to think of an excuse to go up and say hello, thinking that maybe she would let him pick up a book and help her research, if that would not be too much of a distraction.

What made Ron loneliest of all was not that Hermione was not beside him, but the fear that he might go up to sit near her and not be wanted there. There was a painful distance between the two of them now, something completely different from what had existed during their frequent spats in the past. Rather than struggling to keep silent whenever they were in each other's presence, they forced themselves into polite conversation, the kind that would be had among strangers. Yet underneath the formality, Ron sensed all the time that they were really saying, "I miss you." Or at least that was what he wanted to think. At dinner he translated the fragments of his conversation with Hermione thus:

"Pass the pumpkin juice, please." _"I miss you." _

"Here, and could I have the salt?" _"This is bloody stupid, Hermione."_

"Thank you," _"I know."_

Of course, Ron knew that when Hermione was asking for the pumpkin juice, all she really wanted was the pumpkin juice. Once dinner ended, Hermione had leapt up from the table to race back to the library.

As it turned out, Hermione's frequent vanishing acts were short lived.

After the first two days of their "break" had flown by, she went to the library once before breakfast and returned straightaway in the middle of the meal. She walked back with Ron and Harry and Ginny to the common room and curled up with Crookshanks in the chair beside them as if she'd never been gone. Ron presumed that she had found something.

Ron leaned over the arm of his chair and tried to say, "I missed you." The words were on his tongue when he saw that Hermione was not looking at him. In fact, he realized that she had not even said hello. The message then became garbled in his head and he couldn't put half the emotion into his words that he'd meant. It came out, "Why aren't you in the library?"

Hermione straightened her skirt, miffed by his seeming assumption that he thought she should be elsewhere. "I can't find anything," she informed him. "I wanted to spend time with you and Harry and Ginny, if that's all right with you."

"Fine with me," Ron muttered under his breath. Aware that his enthusiasm was not coming out as it should, he slouched down into his chair and began to sulk. He flashed back to the old days when he and Hermione had fought like dragons and afterwards lapsed into icy silences. He tried not to feel the resentment that crept over him as he remembered how Hermione had abandoned him. She obviously thought that she was the only person with troubles and that Ron himself had no need of comfort. After all, his brother was all but recovered, and what had Dumbledore ever meant to him anyway?

Ron sank lower into his chair, glowering at the floor. Eventually, he heard the crinkle of newspaper, meaning that Hermione had pulled out her Daily Prophet.

"Anyone we know?" asked Ron, sitting up a little. He sounded gruff on purpose.

"No," she said, answering his question for the umpteenth time. Their eyes met for the briefest of moments and Ron forgot to glower as they exchanged a silent note of relief. He even allowed himself to smile. When Ron looked away, he discovered Ginny staring at them with such a thoughtful expression on her face that Ron could practically see the gears of her brain turning. He didn't know what she was thinking about. Harry, on the other hand, seemed oblivious. His fingers were intertwined with Ginny's and he seemed to be admiring her profile.

Feeling embarrassed, Ron averted his eyes and suggested going to the infirmary now rather than later. Harry and Ginny expressed their willingness, but Hermione said nothing at first.

_She probably has to go back to the library, _thought Ron bitterly.

When he looked her, he discovered however that Hermione was watching him, wearing an expression similar to what Harry's had been just a moment ago. To his delight, Ron realized to his satisfaction that she had been admiring him. He smiled, sitting up higher. When Hermione saw that she had been caught, she blushed and looked away. She seemed confused, Ron decided, and (he hoped) a little unhappy.

For the next twenty minutes until they departed for the infirmary, Ron daydreamed that Hermione was throwing herself at his feet, begging for him to kiss her because she couldn't stand being without him.

Unfortunately, by evening Hermione was in the library again and Ron was sitting alone by the fire, playing chess against himself. He was squeezing the heads of his chessmen so hard that they began to shout abuses at him and refused to move any more.

-----

The days passed quickly by until the funeral was nearly at hand. On the day before, Ron and the others paid their final visit to the infirmary. The corridors were nearly devoid of students. Many had gone home, while others had been instructed by their parents to go no further from their beds than their common rooms. The daring few were outside, enjoying the fine weather, yet they seemed too gloomy to do anything more than stroll around the lake. The atmosphere was so foreign that Ron felt like a stranger in his own school.

When they entered the infirmary, Fleur was present as usual and was fussing over Bill. Madam Pomfrey seemed to have surrendered most of her work to Fleur, meaning she had nothing to do since Neville had gone back to Gryffindor Tower two evenings before. She sat sulking in a corner, and once Ron could have sworn she put in earplugs when Fleur began to talk about the wedding.

"Eet will be perfect!" she exclaimed. "I am so glad zat Bill will be well in time for eet. We were so afraid that zere would be need to postpone eet. All those special floral orders would be wasted...you know, I had them specially grown? Timing ees very important for zeese things, no? Also, Ron might have outgrown his dress robes if we postponed for even a week."

Fleur patted his hand. "You are getting so big!"

Ron saw Hermione roll her eyes and hoped she was jealous.

Bill, who was eating his lunch, swallowed a bite of his steak tartar and joined in the conversation. "So Hermione, I can imagine you're going crazy at the prospect of the school closing next year. I should think that if it stays open, you'll be in the running for Head Girl."

Ron realized that he hadn't heard a peep from Hermione about the school closing, and thought this was very odd.

"Oh, I haven't really given it much thought, actually," she said, glancing up at Harry, who seemed far away and sad. Ron found something in her concern that he did not like. Why didn't Hermione ever look at him like that? As if she would do anything to know what he was thinking...

"I think you'd miss the library," Ron snapped. "You spend enough time in it."

Hermione's head shot up angrily, and Ron waited for whatever she had to say. He was pleased to have been able to get her riled up over something this break thing that she'd gotten away with far too easily.

"I don't believe they'll close the school," said Ginny very suddenly. "How will you get ready for the N.E.W.T.S.?"

Harry shrugged. "Private lessons?"

Bill swallowed another bite of his steak. "Well," he said, looking at Hermione, "maybe it's all for the best. Seventh Year was fairly dull, if I recall correctly. There wasn't much for me to do as Head Boy. The Prefects did all the work. And it was so stressful what with the exams and all."

"I still don't believe they'd close the school," repeated Ginny.

"Maybe it doesn't really matter if they do or don't," suggested Harry, cryptically, before falling silent.

Ginny took Harry's hand, and Ron looked away.

"Will you be able to come to the funeral tomorrow?" Ron asked Bill.

"Of course. And if I can't walk, I'll have Fleur levitate me down the stairs."

"But of course you will be able to walk," said Fleur. "You are getting stronger all ze time."

Bill smiled, which looked strange under his scars, but it was not entirely unpleasant.

"You're right, darling. After all, it's my face that was hurt, not my legs."

"It ees these potions he takes," spat Fleur with some disdain. Ron noticed that Madam Pomfrey was looking irritated from her corner and was readjusting her ear plugs. "They are so unhealthy, I think. They numb all his muscles so he cannot do much of anything."

And Fleur continued to complain for a full fifteen minutes before Hermione managed to change the subject.

That evening Ron watched Hermione, in accordance with her routine, unroll her copy of the _Evening Prophet_.

"Anyone else we know died?" Ron asked her. It was the first thing he'd said to her since their near spat in the infirmary and she winced at the harshness in his voice, which made him feel instantly like a giant prat.

"No," she said. "They're still looking for Snape but no sign..."

"Of course there isn't," said Harry, his temper rising in his voice. As he got worked up, he accidentally kneed Ginny in the back where she was sitting in front of his legs. "They won't find Snape till they find Voldemort, and seeing as they've never managed to do that in all this time..."

"I'm going to bed," said Ginny, rubbing her back as she yawned. Harry didn't notice. "I haven't been sleeping that well since...well...I could do with some sleep."

Out of habit, Ron looked away as his sister kissed Harry goodnight, inadvertently finding his gaze on Hermione. She was not admiring him, however, as he had caught her doing before. Instead, she was watching Ginny disappear up the stairs, and was obviously not thinking about what he'd been thinking about as he stared at her profile against the fire behind her. Miserably, Ron wondered not for the first time if Hermione really had been breaking up with him and had only taken pity on him at the last minute. Maybe that, "I love you" meant she loved him as a friend.

"Harry," she was saying, oblivious to Ron's turmoil. "I found something out this morning in the library."

"R.A.B.?" asked Harry, catching Ron's attention. But it turned out to be about Snape being the Half-Blood Prince, something Ron supposed Hermione would blame herself for not discovering sooner. He could almost hear her now, "If only I had made the connection! If only I hadn't been thinking about myself...!" Hermione didn't realize that she was never thinking only about herself. She always had room in her thoughts for Harry. Harry seemed to occupy three quarters of her brain, in fact.

This situation reminded him vaguely of a conversation about Tonks they had had several months ago at the Burrow when they had speculated that Tonks was blaming herself for Sirius' death. What was it Hermione had called it? Survivor's guilt? Harry was obviously feeling it. Maybe Hermione was too.

"I should've shown the book to Dumbledore," said Harry, lowering his head. "All that time he was showing me how Voldemort was evil when he was at school, and I had proof Snape was too —"

"'Evil' is a strong word," whispered Hermione. To Ron she seemed to sink beneath the weight of her own unhappiness.

"You were the one who kept telling me the book was dangerous!"

"I'm trying to say, Harry, that you're putting too much blame on yourself. I thought the Prince seemed to have a nasty sense of humor, but I would never have guessed he was a potential killer..."

Her voice caught in her throat. Ron saw her peering up at him, with tears shimmering in her eyes. He pressed his lips together in a thin line.

He sat up and said to Harry, "_None_ of us could've guessed Snape would...you know..." but he looked at Hermione, who nodded, almost imperceptibly, at his words. The three of them said nothing further for a long while, and in the silence Ron found himself thinking along the same lines as Harry and Hermione. He tried to imagine what would have happened if they had known beforehand that Snape would turn traitor. Perhaps they could have tried to sabotage his plans, only to be caught and expelled from school, and Dumbledore would die anyway...whenever Snape's chance came again; or they could have convinced Dumbledore that he was in danger, only...what proof could they have offered?

It was possible that nothing would have gone differently at all, and they might still be sitting around the common room thinking, "What if?"

-----

Morning came like an unwelcome guest. It was Ron's last day at Hogwarts, possibly forever.

Ron awoke with the sun and dressed silently. Harry was already packing, but he was doing it the Muggle way. He folded everything twice and straightened his books three times, as if he couldn't bear not to be doing something. Ron simply found his wand and flicked his wrist so that all his books and clothes tumbled into his trunk, but he sat on his bed staring out the window until it was time to go down to the Great Hall.

Harry closed his trunk and locked it, but he did not get up or remove his hands for a long moment. He looked as if he were praying, but Ron had never seen Harry pray before.

"Harry?" he asked.

Neville and Dean, newly awakened, shuffled past them on their way to the loo. Their intrusion upon the quiet of the morning drove Harry from his thoughts. He stood up and straightened his dress robes.

"I hope Scrimgeour doesn't try to talk to me," said Harry, suddenly. Then he shrugged off his own statement, silently asking Ron not to make too much of it. Ron watched Harry stare at the door of the dormitories, out from which they would soon go, perhaps never to return again. Had Harry realized that?

Ron had his answer within fifteen minutes when they headed out to go to breakfast. Ron went out first, quickly so as to get it over with; but when he headed toward the staircase, he discovered that Harry was not beside him. He turned around and found Harry pausing at the threshold, resting his palm against the cool stone of the lintel.

"C'mon," said Ron. Harry stepped forward and didn't look back. They discovered that Hermione and Ginny were waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs, wearing their best uniforms, which had been impeccably ironed and creased. They did not smile as Harry and Ron joined them. The other Gryffindors shuffled past them on their way to breakfast and for a long time the only noise was the sound of feet on the steps, but the mood was too somber too soon.

When they passed the portrait and entered the hall, they at last heard someone speak. One of the Creevey brothers was talking to a young Second Year girl about something mundane. Candy perhaps. Suddenly, conversations burst out all over the hall. By the time they reached the staircase, there was a healthy roar of hallway noise.

"I forgot to mention it before, but what will you do for the summer?" asked Hermione to no one in particular, simply making small talk. "After the wedding, I mean?"

Harry didn't answer. Ginny shrugged.

Ron supposed he would do whatever his Mum told him to do, but what that was he didn't know. He said nothing. They proceeded to the Great Hall for one last breakfast and found, as they had expected, that Scrimgeour and his Ministry toads (including Percy) were presiding at the Head table.

Ron had all but forgotten Percy and found it strange to see him now. He had cut his hair since Christmas and had grown something of a moustache, most likely in an effort to look important. Percy would do better to join the Order and fight Voldemort, thought Ron. He looked ridiculous up there by Scrimgeour, hopping up and down like an anxious puppy whenever he thought the Minister wanted a glass of pumpkin juice. Ron speared his kippers, thinking that half the school must be slandering the Weasley name in retribution for the year of persecution at Head Boy Percy's hands.

It was a mercy when breakfast ended. They processed single file from the Gryffindor Table out into the great narthex outside. No one was speaking, and if anyone tried to speak he instantly thought better of it and remained silent. The whole school had been rendered mute.

When they reached the lake, Ron and the others took their seats in a single row and, like the condemned waiting for execution, waited for the ceremony to begin. There was a rustle of velvet and silk robes as Fudge and Scrimgeour and other "important" persons took their seats. Ron looked at his shoes when Percy walked by.

He did not look up until the music began. Merpeople. It was a strange, haunting melody that Ron could not dare to criticize. He looked to the lake, from whence came the sound, and was moved by the grief held in those voices.

Then Hagrid appeared in the aisle, carrying the body over his shoulder. It confused Ron to see how small the bundle was. Surely, Dumbledore could not be that thing wrapped in cloth. Ron had always seen Dumbledore as someone great, indomitable, invincible with a dignity beyond mortal measure. This bundle of cloth could not be him. It could never contain his great spirit or even half the sum of what Dumbledore was. No, Dumbledore was elsewhere.

But it was Dumbledore's body, for Ron saw above the heads of those in front of him, that Hagrid had laid it out upon the table. The traitorous sunlight fell upon it. Ron felt the day was far too beautiful for the occasion.

A little man dressed in black got up to give the eulogy. Ron only remembered hearing one eulogy before, and had never understood how anyone could sum up a life in ten brief minutes. It seemed to him that the eulogy's sole purpose was to prolong the final farewell for as long as possible, and that this was the only reason people would put up with one.

"Few could ever understand his nobility of spirit," the man was saying. "For he truly believed in the existence in good and righteousness, and sought to bring out such qualities in every single person he ever met. Hogwarts and its pupils, both present and future, have suffered an irrevocable loss. It is doubtful that any could ever match his intellectual contribution, and it is certain that no one will ever match his greatness of heart. But Albus Dumbledore would not wish us to lose hope. He would tell us not to give in to fear, but to band together...to fight...!"

Just then, Ron heard a muffled sniff and looked over to find Hermione sobbing quietly. Her hands that were folded over her lap were trembling. The back of her left hand was wet with tears falling from her face. Ron didn't care if they were on a break or not. He reached over and offered her his hand for comfort.

Without taking her eyes off the speaker, Hermione took it. Ron knew that he was witnessing a funeral. He knew that he was supposed to be saying good-bye to a beloved hero. But as he held Hermione's hand in his, he couldn't help but feel happy.

The speaker took his seat again, and then the pyre was lit. It was over in a burst of smoke and ash, and whatever Dumbledore had been was gone forever.

The congregation slowly trickled out, row by row. First in silence, then among a low rumble of conversation and sorrowful whispers. People swarmed around the four of them and then dissipated. Beside him, Hermione was struggling for control, perhaps trying not to cause a scene in the midst of so many people. She still clutched Ron's hand. When the crowd around them had thinned, Ron stood, leading Hermione apart from the crowd and she followed without question.

They had gone several paces, out of earshot of Harry and Ginny, when to Ron's surprise, Hermione stopped him. She placed her head on his shoulder and wept into his robes. A lump came into Ron's throat as he stared at the pyre over her head. It was smoking, but the fire had been put out. All traces of the purple cloth were gone, as if nothing had ever been there at all.

Unbidden, a tear slipped from his eye and down his cheek. Ron cried with Hermione, releasing with his tears all his insecurities for the future, all his confusion and sadness for Dumbledore and all his love for her.

Ron tenderly stroked her hair with his hand, trying not to let his tears fall anywhere upon the chestnut cascade. He wanted to ask, "Are we still on a break?" but this was not the right moment. He felt that he should say something, however.

Ron wanted to tell Hermione that he would do anything she asked, that she was the only girl he would ever love... He opened his mouth to say it all, when suddenly she lifted her head from his shoulder. Ron saw that her reddened eyes were fixed on Ginny's retreating figure. Then both of them glanced the opposite way, looking for Harry, and found him being chased by Rufus Scrimgeour.

With a sigh, Ron knew his declaration must wait. "C'mon," he said. "Let's go rescue him."

"Wait," said Hermione, pulling Ron back. He watched her, waiting for her to say what she must say. She was fidgeting and looked nervous. Ron hoped that she wasn't going to tell him that it hadn't meant anything, crying on his shoulder, and that she only wanted to be friends. He looked down at his feet, as she said, "I just want to be here for a moment with you. We're leaving today, and I just wanted you to know that..."

"I would never ask you to choose between me and helping Harry, you know," he said quickly. "I don't know if that would change what you're going to say, but..."

He wanted to say more, but he couldn't get it out his mouth. He wanted to say something that could only be felt. It was too precious, too complex for words. "I want to tell you that...I..."

Ron couldn't finish. Not when Hermione was looking at him like that and when he didn't know if she still wanted him. He gulped and tried again, but he couldn't remember what it was that he had wanted to tell her. "I want to say..."

"Oh Ron, I already know," she said. But how could she know when he didn't even know it himself? He couldn't even remember what he had been about to say, except that it was incredibly important and that it would have made him completely worthy of Hermione for once because it was something along the lines of _I love you_ only it had been even better, and...

"You wear your heart on your sleeve," said Hermione, with a patient smile. Only somehow she seemed disappointed.

"But I want to tell you..."

Hermione waited, letting Ron have his chance. Ron opened his mouth, ready to say it. He could have sworn Hermione was holding her breath.

Then Ginny appeared. "I'm going back in," she said. Ron swirled around to find Ginny standing alone without Harry. There were tears running down her cheeks and she was trying to hide them behind her hair. "Hermione, I wanted to say good-bye because you'll be sitting with the prefects on the train, I think..."

As the girls hugged, Ron looked around for Harry. He spotted him talking to Scrimgeour a little ways on. When Ginny left them, Hermione took Ron by the hand and they walked in that direction. They caught up to Harry beneath old the beech tree.

"What did Scrimgeour want?" asked Hermione.

Harry was leaning with his back against the tree, staring off into the distance. He barely acknowledged their approach. "Same as he wanted at Christmas," he said. "Wanted me to give him inside information on Dumbledore and be the Ministry's new poster boy."

To Ron it sounded like one of Percy's ideas, and it angered him that Percy had suggested the previous year that he distance himself from Harry and was now so willing to use his friend. He didn't know how to apologize for his brother, and so he said, "Look, let me go back and hit Percy!" Ron was turning away when Hermione grabbed him by the arm.

"No," she said, and Ron knew she was right.

"It'll make me feel better!"

They all had a laugh, because each of them knew that Ron hadn't really wanted to hit Percy (at least not on this day of all days), but that he would have done it for Harry's sake.

Hermione swept her gaze over the castle towering above them. "I can't bear the idea that we might never come back," she said. "How can Hogwarts close?"

"Maybe it won't," said Ron. "We're not in any more danger here than we are at home, are we?"

"I'm not coming back even if it does reopen."

It was Harry who had spoken. Ron stared at him, remembering Harry's pause at the threshold of the dormitories and the way his eyes raked over every detail of the castle, trying to make it last. Truly, Hogwarts had been Harry's only home, and now it seemed that he was going into exile.

Beside him, Hermione whispered, "I knew you were going to say that. But then what will you do?"

"I'm going back to the Dursley's once more," replied Harry, surprising Ron. "Because Dumbledore wanted me to. But it'll be a short visit, and then I'll be gone for good."

"But where will you go if you don't come back to school?"

Harry breathed out slowly, considering the question for a moment. "I thought I might go back to Godric's Hollow," he said at length, and there was a tremor in his voice. "For me, it started there, all of it. I've just got a feeling I need to go there. And I can visit my parents' graves, I'd like that."

Ron nodded. "And then what?"

"Then I've got to track down the rest of the Horcruxes, haven't I? That's what he wanted me to do, that's why he told me all about them. If Dumbledore was right—and I'm sure he was—there are still four of them out there. I've got to find them and destroy them, and then I've got to go after the seventh bit of Voldemort's soul, the bit that's still in his body, and I'm the one who's going to kill him. And if I meet Severus Snape along the way, so much the better for me, so much the worse for him."

At first Ron didn't know what to say. He half expected Hermione to start lecturing Harry on how it was bad to want to kill one's teachers. However, when she said nothing, Ron realized she felt the same way about it that he and Harry did. They wanted Harry to find the Horcruxes, and they wanted Voldemort defeated. And he and Hermione both knew that it was a fight that one man alone should never undertake.

Ron saw that Hermione was biting her lip, at a loss for words. Perhaps she was thinking about school and about her Head Girl badge, the N.E.W.T.S.; but Ron knew that if she didn't speak now, she would always regret it. If she didn't go with Harry, she would hate herself.

"We'll be there, Harry," he said.

"What?"

Ron pressed onward, and he saw Hermione nodding her support. "At your aunt and uncle's house. And then we'll go with you wherever you're going."

"No—"

Hermione found her voice then. "You said to us once before that there was time to turn back if we wanted to," she said. "We've had time, haven't we?"

"We're with you whatever happens," said Ron. "But mate, you're going to have to come round my mum and dad's house before we do anything else, even Godric's Hollow."

Harry's face scrunched up in confusion. "Why?"

Ron wondered how Harry could have forgotten Fleur's forty-minute lecture on flower arrangements, but he supposed that on a day such as this anyone could forget that something good was about to happen. "Bill and Fleur's wedding, remember?"

Harry smiled, a genuine and unfettered smile, "Yeah," he said. "We shouldn't miss that."

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

Epilogue:

-----

The train from Hogwarts rolled into King's Cross Station with a screech, and almost immediately its passengers began to pour out of the cars. The steam from the engine car was still rising when Ron and Harry emerged and headed toward the platform, hauling their luggage behind them. Hermione was lagging behind to say good-bye to Luna and Neville. She had already bid farewell to Harry.

Until Ron and Harry neared the barrier, nothing was said other than, "Blimey, this is heavy," and "Ouch, my foot." Once they reached the barrier, however, Ron embraced Harry like a brother.

"When we see each other next, we won't have to say good-bye again," he told him.

Harry shook his head, ready to protest, "But..."

"No buts," said Ron, silencing his friend.

"I guess...I guess I always knew that I couldn't convince you not to come with me."

"Don't forget it either," said Ron.

Despite himself, Ron's gaze drifted to where Hermione was as she stepped onto the platform. They had not said their good-byes yet, and Ron wondered what words might pass between them. Would she tell him they weren't on a break anymore? Maybe she would let him kiss her before they parted ways. Ron decided that he would tell her everything this time, no stammering or pauses this time. No sarcasm, just honesty.

Harry suddenly coughed. "Are you and Hermione...?"

Ron blushed a little at having been caught. "Yes," he answered, without further hesitation.

"That's what I thought. Ginny said that she suspected something was going on," said Harry, looking sad. He let out a long, tremulous sigh. Ron saw that Harry was watching Ginny, who was now emerging from her car alongside Seamus and Neville.

"I wish..." Harry began. But he did not finish telling Ron what he would wish. Instead, he lapsed into silence, shaking his head sadly. "I'll see you at the wedding, mate."

Ron watched Harry go, dragging his trunk to the barrier through which he would find the Dursleys waiting for him, scowling and already counting down the days until his departure. He was the only one trudging up to the barrier, and he looked like isolation personified. Everyone else was standing around, hugging before going out to meet his or her parents.

As Ron tried to understand the unfathomable loneliness his friend must bear, he knew that he would never be able to comprehend it. Ron turned around and strode towards Hermione, who had seen him and was smiling.

For now it was just the two of them.

-----

Finis 

**Burgundy**: Thanks for pointing out those typos! I fixed them the morning after you told me. I really do appreciate that.

**WeasleyGirlYeah:** Thank you for your chapter by chapter reviews! They came at a time when my mind was somewhere else (on my schoolwork) and gave me enough impetus to finish the story. You stopped reviewing, though. I guess you either got tired or stopped liking the story. :(

**ZetZet Zoe**: Well...the point of Hermione apologizing is not that I thought she _ought_ to apologize, but that it was right for her character to do so at the time. Hermione, like most women inexperienced with dating, has been waiting for Ron to come to her to say the flowery things that men say in books and movies, but Ron isn't like that because he is just as insecure and inexperienced in love as she is. She is furious with him because he went out with Lavender, but she can't express it properly. She lashes out because she is still waiting for Ron to make the move. However, once Ron is poisoned, Hermione wakes up. She realizes that she really loves him and would rather put up with Lavender and be close to him than be apart. Ron isn't yet capable of coming to her, and she sees that she can't make him come to her by punishing him. So by apologizing, even when she wasn't necessarily in the wrong, Hermione is showing maturity. She's weighing her pride against her friendship with Ron and the friendship wins.

**R/Hr Rulz**: I submitted this to Checkmated, but there's a long queue and my editor hasn't finished editing Chapter One yet.

**Joyrok**: I can't remember how I felt about the break-up. I think I wasn't all that surprised either, but I do remember having flashbacks to Spider-Man.

**Ruth3**: Wow! Welcome to the R/Hr ship! You're new like me. :) I've managed to find several good R/Hr fics at SugarQull, but they're hard to find because the website doesn't separate stories according to ship.

And thanks to all my other faithful reviewers that I haven't responded to directly this time around!


End file.
